


Fatal Formula

by AllMonstersRHuman



Series: the Dangerous Recipe series [2]
Category: Red Canyon (2008)
Genre: F/M, Norman Reedus - Freeform, Red Canyon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:56:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 79,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1368028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllMonstersRHuman/pseuds/AllMonstersRHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happily ever afters don't last forever, especially for Mac and Krystal. Dangerous Recipe 2: Fatal Formula.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost Innocence

 

 **Author's Notice:**   _My writing has been stolen twice by someone who tried to pass it off as their own. If you recognize my writing anywhere please contact me immediately._

 **A WARNING TO ALL REEDUS WRITERS:**   _In light of posting a very angry author's note to the story that the content was stolen from. I have been informed by a fellow writer that many other writers in the Reedus fandom have had their work stolen recently._

_This person will most likely make a new blog, steal more writing, and submit it as their own to another innocent fic blog. **Look out for writing you recognize and if possible inform the rightful owner.**_

* * *

**Please make sure you've read part one of the series first, Dangerous Recipe!**

* * *

 

 

A little boy sits in the back of a rusted Cadillac. His skittish blue eyes dart from the rocky landscape whizzing by outside his window to the blond woman driving with a cigarette clutched in her hand. Worry creases his brow as he squirms in his seat, pain pricking his bladder.

"Mom I still gotta go potty." he squeaks out, just barely loud enough to be heard over the drawling lyrics of a country heartbreak song.

"If you make one more sound I swear to god I'll dump you on the side of the road right here for the buzzards to eat." the driver snaps, maneuvering her rear view mirror to catch the golden haired child in her resentful sights. "We'll be there in half an hour, just hold it."

The boy does his best to stay quiet, wiggling this way and that, desperately trying to relieve his discomfort while pleasing the temperamental female in front of him. He watches the little clock on the dashboard, the pain becoming unbearable by the time fifteen minutes pass.

He tries to keep his tears of shame silent as steaming urine pools on the leather seat beneath him and runs down his legs. A small sob at disappointing his mother slips out making her arctic eyes flit to the mirror.

When her eyes lock with his fear strikes through him and he cries harder. They return back to the road when she only sees his blubbering face. Making him confused as to why the yelling and pain hasn't started yet. More anxiety riddled minutes tick by before the scent of pee reaches her nostrils.

"Did you piss your pants Mackenzie?" she screeches, turning around quickly to look at the sobbing soaked child scornfully, making him flinch and bury his face shamefully in his hands.

If she could have safely reached back there to smack him without the car veering off the road she would have. The thought of pulling over just to beat him was almost as appealing as the end result of this road trip.

"You worthless little fuck, I can't wait to-" she cuts herself off, knowing she almost let slip what would set off a full on hysterical tantrum, instead pushing the gas pedal down harder.

She turns the music up louder to drown out her son's cries and apologies, getting giddier with every passing mile marker. When they finally pull to a stop she doesn't waste a second before getting out to haul a faded backpack from the trunk, wrenching the rear car door open.

"You go on in there and give this to the man behind the counter. Can you be a good boy and do that for me?" she asks sweetly in a sickeningly fake manner, holding out an envelope with a name on it.

Eager to please his mother after soiling himself the little boy nods, taking the white rectangle in his tiny hands. Grateful for a chance to make it up to his mom he moves forward with outstretched arms. Only to be rejected as she steps back with a look of disgust on her face.

"Go on, you'll get a hug after." she lies, wrinkling her nose at him.

She watches him run to the bar, excited to complete this mission in exchange for his mother's love. His mother only waits until he's barely inside the door before tossing the backpack into the dirt and climbing back into the driver's seat.

The boy waits patiently as a man with a ponytail reads his mother's note. Horror and anger flash over the strange man's face before he charges out the entrance, yanking the little boy along roughly by the arm.

The pain shooting through his small limb is forgotten when he realizes the taillights vanishing into a cloud of dust belong to the person who was supposed to love him most in the world. He doesn't understand. He was a good boy, he did what she asked. Why was she forgetting him?

"Momma wait for me!" Mackenzie screams, frantically trying to get away from the man to run after her, watching the car disappear into the distance.

Watching her leave him behind.

When the man's grip loosens the boy falls to the ground, crawling to the pack as he cries, clutching it for dear life as snot and salty water pour down his face. He calls out for his mother in between keening wails, desperate to not be ignored for once.

"Look at you, no wonder she ditched your sorry ass." the man sneered down at the distraught child, making him cry harder.

"No son of mine would piss his pants and cry for his mama, that slut don't know shit." he growled to himself, returning to his work, leaving the boy to snivel in the dirt.

Eventually Mackenzie's cries died into sniffling tremors that wracked his small frame. Self soothing hopes of his mommy turning the car around when she realized he wasn't in the back seat quieting him.

After almost getting run over he moved to sit on top of a picnic table so he could be easily seen when she remembered him and came back. He sat there stone still, trying his best to be a good boy. She was always telling him to sit still and be quiet. He wanted her to be proud of how good he was being when she returned.

When his back began to ache and he was forced to re-position himself he felt like a failure, sure his mother would know he moved. She always knew. Even if he really hadn't done anything she was always right. And he was always punished.

As he sat there he wondered if he would be punished for not coming back outside quick enough. He already knew he would be for his accident. The penalty for such a crime was a forceful scrubbing in the bathtub with the metal wool along with being held under the water until he fell asleep.

Even when it got dark out with the bar's porch lights illuminating a parking lot packed full of cars. He still confidently told every person who asked him where his parents were that his mom would be back soon. Truly believing she would be. His young mind came up with countless reasons why she was taking so long. Each one strengthening his naive faith in her return. Even though he was miserably hungry and chilled to the bone from sitting in wet pants all day.

As it got later he fought to keep his eyes open and watch many people leave, until only one truck remained in the lot. The sound of keys jingling and a door shutting came from behind him before gravel crunching footsteps approached him from behind.

"Still out here waiting on that whore piss-boy?" a gruff voice asked him, making his tiny fists ball up.

He hated his man, the one she left him with. His shaking was no longer from chills but unhealthy intense rage. Anger that'd been held inside from years of being neglected and abused.

Springing off the tabletop he attacked the man, scratching and punching with all the violence his little fury could muster. Until a hard slap to the face made his nose bleed and the tears start up again, pissing off the man in front of him further.

"Shut it you little pussy." he roared dragging the wailing child towards a strip of motel rooms, locking the door behind him once he forced the boy inside.

"No son a mine is going to be soft. I'm gonna pound the pussy right outta you pretty-boy." Walter growled, unbuckling his belt as he advanced on Mac's cowering form in the corner.

He was screaming again, crying in his sleep.

She hated nights like these when she had to listen to him whimper in agony as the demons of his subconscious tortured him. While she was powerless to stop it.

When hot liquid seeped underneath her from his side of the bed she knew she couldn't just sit by idly anymore. Braving another injury she shook him lightly, not moving fast enough when a blind fist swung out at her.

"Son of a bitch." she hissed, clutching the boob he sideswiped, the female pain equivalent of a nut punch shooting through her chest.

"Mac wake up!" she bellowed once the pain passed and she could breathe again, rattling him roughly until his eyes opened.

He gave a startled whine before frantically searching, his breaths coming in labored pants until his eyes finally found her. Mac grabbed for her, yanking her down underneath him, clinging to her.

"I'm here." she assured, ignoring the warm wetness saturating her skin as his weight pressed her down into the piss soaked mattress. Instead she brought a gentle hand up to stroke his hair and push the strands off his sweaty face.

"I'll always be here." she promised with a wheeze when his crushing grip refused to loosen, his embrace becoming painful, bordering on cracking her ribs.

Her other arm wrapped around him to squeeze reassuringly before her palm ran down his back in a soothing gesture, sweeping over raised scar tissue.

"It's okay, It was just a nightmare." she whispered when he finally gave her leeway to breathe, though he continued trembling.

He couldn't even remember how he coped with the night terrors before she came along, any drug paling in comparison to the relief her touch and presence afforded him. Letting out a long calming breath he burrowed his face deeper into her neck, settling into the comforting feel of her body underneath him.

Mac stiffened noticeably when a distinct scent wafted up to him from his place on top of her. The physical embodiment of his nightmare memory coated them both. He recoiled from her embrace, shame slicing through him even deeper now that he was an adult.

"You fucking elbowed me in the bladder in your sleep and I peed the bed." Kristy lied in a growl, trying to take the blame for his accident, attempting to spare him the embarrassment.

Looking away from her in self-loathing he only grunted in reply before getting off her to head towards the shower. Mac didn't need Devon to say it for him to know she was too good for him.

Once he was out of the room she let the choking gag slip out she'd been repressing for his sake, scurrying to get off the bed. If someone had told her four months ago that she'd be voluntarily rolling around in piss to prevent Mac's feelings from being hurt she would have laughed in their face.

"Good lord, what is he, a fucking camel?" she muttered to herself once the top sheet was pulled away to reveal an unreasonably large piddle puddle.

With a quick glance at the bedside clock she dialed Walter to leave a message calling off for the coming day, grateful he wouldn't be up at this hour to bitch her out.

The difference between her reaction and his mother's didn't go unacknowledged as Mac stood under the spray. Krystal always knew what to do to make him feel better, be it him getting fired again or screaming like a little bitch in the middle of the night. She always made it better by just being there. Let alone everything else she did to soothe him.

"Thanks for keeping it warm while I cleaned everything up." came an exhausted voice from behind him as the glass door opened.

"I called off for today." she added around a yawn, moving in front of him to steal the hot water and rinse his dried urine from her skin.

"Aint Walter gonna be pissed?" he commented, thankful she'd changed the topic so quickly.

"Fuck Walter, he can serve his own damn food just like he used to before we had to shut down." she grumbled, grabbing for the soap.

The way she so brazenly did as she pleased without fearing his father made Mac wish he had such courage, such strength. Leaning his face into her hair he wrapped an arm around her, foolishly half hoping some of it would seep in through his skin.

"You want to talk about it?" she quietly asked, leaning back into him.

Obviously that one was a big fat "no".

"You wanna fuck?" she offered when her first question was greeted with stony silence.

Kristy knew taking his emotions out on her with violent sex almost always did the trick. A shift of his hips against her backside told her all she needed to know.

"M' gonna call off too, spend tha day fuckin' yer brains out." Mac declared, kicking her legs apart, more than happy to do so instead of spending it covered in grease.

"Uh-uh you already called off twice this week." she chided, gasping when he roughly inserted himself.

The force of it would have knocked her over if not for the large hands encasing her hips, thick fingers digging into her soft flesh. Bruising. Marking.

"Richie aint gonna fire me, lil shit wouldn' dare." he growled, bending her over forcefully until she could touch her toes.

"No Mac, you're going to work." she ground out breathlessly, his erratic harsh movements silencing her there after.

Apart from animalistic noises.

"I call that the moon patch." Kristy informed him when he swept light fingertips over a group of circular craters in her upper bicep. "She'd call for me and if I didn't come running fast enough with an ashtray she'd use me instead. Sometimes she'd just use me for the fun of it."

Of course he'd gotten his way with little resistance. And now there they were, snuggled up in the living room on an air mattress nest consisting of every clean blanket and pillow they owned. She couldn't say no when she'd woken him for breakfast and he gave her  _that_ look.

He'd poked his head from beneath the covers, bed-head sticking up in all directions, bottom lip sticking out, big blue eyes turning her to mush. Mac had mastered the puppy dog face quite quickly when he'd realized it actually worked on her. But she always spoiled him whether he was being a manipulative little shit or not.

Mac was thoroughly enjoying their twisted game instead of being at work, sickly fascinated with the stories that accompanied her damage. At the same time he wished the people who'd given them to her were still alive so he could kill them again.

"Hey, it's my turn!" she whined when Mac tried to choose another mark.

"Got that fallin' offa cliff, tryina rape Devon's college girlfriend back when alla that shit went down." he shared when her fingers ran along a raised line underneath his hair.

"Crazy bitch tackled me right offa tha damn side." he added as his eyes swept along her exposed body, choosing his next one.

"Those are actually all my fault." she laughed as he grabbed onto her burn covered toes. "I was experimenting with the formula only wearing flipflops."

"What about this. I know it's not a scar but I still want to know. Devon has one too, I've seen it." she insisted, tapping at the amateur spider tattoo located where his collarbone ended and his shoulder began.

"Never mind." she quickly backpedaled when the slight grin on his face vanished at her question, his eyes clouding over, hardening.

Kristy cherished every one of his decaying smiles, something rare that only happened when they were alone and he wasn't in one of his gloomy moods. She didn't want to be the cause of its disappearance.

"How 'bout them, never could figure 'em out." he admitted, moving on past the memory the spider brought back.

Tracing lines between the small raised welts peppering the skin on her side just above her hip, he looked up at her expectantly.

"Cattle prod." she supplied before taking a sip of water, knowing he'd want the whole story. "They hung me from my bound hands so my toes could just barely touch the floor. Doused me with ice water and then every time I wouldn't answer I'd get a jolt with the prod. It wasn't so bad. That was just about the only time I got any heat unless they were burning me."

Her fingers tapped lightly at healed meth scab scars along his chest before she settled on a thin faded line over his heart, placing her palm over it. He looked up at her, his features darkening again. Kristy couldn't understand why he'd made up this stupid game if it was going to upset him so much. She was more than willing to tell him whatever he wanted to know if he just got the balls to ask.

"Sh' tried killin' me when I was a baby. Stabbed me an left me in a dumpster. Changed 'er mind an came back when she got high again. Fuckin' whore bragged 'bout it when I was a lil older, told me I shouldn'a survived." he whispered just when she was about to relinquish her turn.

"Thas why she called me 'er lil cockroach. 'Cause I wouldn' die." he added with a dark sarcastic laugh.

Krystal's hand had balled into a fist over his heart during his short story. She was practically shaking from containing her rage, her face turning red from held in breath and anger. Exactly why Mac had dodged every scar given to him by his parents whenever she unknowingly chose one so far.

He pulled her down to rest on his chest, relieved when she finally let out a long breath and started breathing again, his heartbeat keeping her meltdown at bay. And here she thought he was the one who couldn't handle it.

"Damn good thang we didn' make this inta a drinkin' game." he commented, getting a slight chuckle from her.

After a few moments Mac pushed her off, shifting onto his side so he could grab for her hands, choosing his next set of faded scars. The lines extending the width of her hands were so faint you could only see them if the light hit them just right, her shins sported matching near invisible stripes.

"How'd ya get them." he inquired, running his thumbs over her palms, moving to rest his head on her stomach.

"I was never really scared of her and she knew it. I wasn't afraid to tell her what a whore she was or hit her back and it pissed her off to no end. One day I just snapped and knocked her over the back with a kitchen chair." she began, stroking a hand through his hair while she tried to remember the exact details.

"No wait, it was a baseball bat I'd stolen from a neighborhood kid. Either way, that night when I was sleeping she picked me up and tossed me in the oven. She turned it on and held the door closed, started cooking me until she couldn't stand the smell anymore."

"I faded them on purpose. Those were always the ones I hated the most because she actually put some fear in me that night." she explained when Mac brought her hands closer to examine the lines.

"Wish that bitch was alive so's I could barbeque 'er ass alive." Mac growled, showing the first sign that any of her trauma effected him beyond his sick fascination.

"Don't worry, I got her back the next night. It hurt like hell to strike the match but I lit her hair on fire while she was sleeping." she snickered, making a wide smile stretch his face along with a barking laugh.

When she went to reach for the ones on his back he rolled over, silently telling her those were off limits. That was a loophole in the game. If they chose a scar the other wasn't willing to talk about then the chooser lost that turn. Mac never lost a turn.

"This one." he demanded, opening her legs before thumbing the teeth marks on her inner thigh.

"Oh that's a special one." she purred with a naughty smile, knowing where that scar would lead as he settled himself in between her thighs.

"I got that one the night my man made me his."


	2. Talking Buisness

 

 

 

 

 

Walter tried dialing Krystal's number once more, getting a series of rings over the din of the bar before her voicemail answered again.

"Fucking puta whore." he growled, slamming the phone down into its cradle.

He was growing extremely sick of the girl acting like she was the one in charge. Not showing up to work whenever she felt like it. Giving him excuses every time he tried to insist it was time to start cooking again. Walter was almost out of the product they'd stockpiled in an underground bunker miles away and the main customers were getting hostile at him rationing it.

When Cainville had been crawling with agents and cops just like she'd predicted they'd had to completely shut down the business. Burying her lab set along with every brick they had before bleaching every inch of the cave and setting it aflame for good measure.

The junkies had moved out of town without their weekly fixes coming. Leaving room for developers to buy up land and turn Cainville into a resort town. Now it was thriving, crawling with tourists. Which was why the Luna Mesa had a full house this evening, why he needed his only waitress on duty.

"Devon go up to her house and get that bitch down here." Walter ordered, popping the caps off several beers before putting them on a tray for a table in the corner.

"Dad if she called in you know she's not going to come. She won't listen to me." Devon argued, not keen on being the one to tell Krystal she  _had_ to do anything.

"I don't care if you have to drag her by her fucking hair! Get that whore down here." he growled quietly, balancing the tray evenly before making his way to the customers.

"Goddamn thas good." Mac wheezed around a held in breath of smoke, examining the rolled greenery in between his fingers.

"Where'd ya get this shit?" he asked once he was done coughing his brains out, passing Kristy the joint.

"One of those construction guys gets it from a dispensary in California. I jewed him way down on the price for a half so you're set for a while." she informed him, taking her first hit.

With canine noses sniffing around and professional snoops skulking about, Kristy had no choice but to force Mac into detox. She'd taken care of him through every agonizing hour of it, the vomiting, violent hallucinations, the shakes. Basically withdrawals from hell. There still wasn't a day he didn't at least once think about snorting a sweet line of meth. But they'd found marijuana curbed his cravings nicely, mellowing him out slightly as well.

Kristy gave a hefty eye roll at his sour expression in reaction to her interacting with another male without him present. It wasn't like she'd ever cheat on him. She knew he was just irrationally insecure thanks to previous fucked up events in his life. Trust issues on steroids.

"You're so cute when you're possessive." she giggled after letting out a long stream of smoke, rolling her hips atop him, making his cock twitch inside her.

"Nobody'll ever fuck me like you do." she whispered, placing the red hot end into her mouth before leaning in to almost press her mouth against his, blowing a thick milky stream of smoke into his lungs until he began to choke.

"Nobody'll ever hit it right like you do." she murmured, using the back of the couch as leverage to rise up on his dick before slowly grinding back down onto it.

"I'm your bitch. You own me." she purred, continuing to stroke his ego and tease him with every undulation of her hips as she snuffed the roach out in a nearby ashtray.

"Bounce." he ordered smugly, smacking her ass hard enough to make her gasp before a wicked grin spread across her face.

She obeyed, twerking her ass as she rose and fell on his length, sending Mac's head flying to the back of the couch, his mouth hanging open as he groaned in pleasure. He filled his hands with generous portions of her cheeks, slamming her down onto his dick when she hovered teasingly over it, making her scream.

"Cummon, pleeeaase lemmie put it in yer ass." he begged, wiggling a finger against her resistant puckered hole, making that adorable face up at her.

"Fuck no." she growled, smacking his hand away, giving him a serious glare as her motions slowed.

Kristy was genuinely surprised not only at his use of manners, but that he was still on about that. After what she'd done to him for "accidentally" drunkenly trying to poke her backdoor while she was sleeping one night she thought he'd never dare ask for that again. No longer having patients for their mediocre pace after being shot down Mac began pounding up into her, making her hiss in pained pleasure as she leaned back, gripping his hair for balance.

"Oh shit, Devon!" she squealed, dropping her exposed body down onto Mac when she spotted his brother through the glass panel of the kitchen's backdoor.

"Wut tha fuck did yew jus call me?" Mac screamed furiously, yanking her head up with a painfully hard grip on her hair.

"He's at the backdoor." she growled at him, digging her nails into the wrist of the hand trying to rip her hair out.

Mac twisted around at the sound of persistent knocking, peeking over the edge of the sofa to find his little brother peering in through the glass.

"Fuck off!" he hollered, trying to keep Kristy from slithering off his lap and down onto the air mattress.

"Walter probably sent him." she assumed, snatching a sheet from their blanket cave, weaving it around herself before rising into view and stomping to the door.

"This better be really important, there better be some shit on fire or someone dying." she snapped once she unlocked and opened the door.

"W-wal-" Devon stuttered before she cut him off.

"Walter wants me serving his fucking slop, right? Spit it out already you sound like a fucking retard." Kristy snarled, making Devon step back a few paces.

"Tell him I'll be there in an hour. Get out of my sight." she hissed, slamming the door in his face.

With a sigh she leaned back against the door, resting her head against it for a moment before moving to get ready. She was doing it for Mac, not because Walter sent his errand boy up commanding her to. Every time she pissed him off he took it out on Mac, knowing his son was her only weakness. His only way to control her.

"I need to talk to you." Walter informed Kristy when she returned with a tray full of empties.

"Uh-uh I don't have time to talk. I'm too busy taking orders, serving drinks, and refraining from murdering your customers when they try grabbing my ass." she growled, dumping the empties in the recycling bin. "And on top of that I'm busing tables. What the fuck Walter you told me you'd hire a busboy."

"Devon get off your ass and start clearing tables." Walter ordered, raising his eyebrows at Kristy, motioning with a sweep of his hand towards his office.

"You already know what I want." he quietly told her when he closed the door behind them.

"And you already know what I'm going to say." she calmly countered, crossing her arms to lean back against Devon's desk.

"You work for me remember? I let you and Mac live on that condition. Which means you obey my orders or you both die." he hissed, dropping all diplomatic pretenses, quickly growing irritated that she was still resisting.

"There are people who are going to come looking for this shit." she finally bit out after a moment of frustrated silence. "I told you that but you don't see to want to listen."

"Fuck those fleabag Colombians, they're nothing to worry about." Walter scoffed, brushing off her reasoning.

"I'm not just talking about the Colombians. If the Thailanders find out about a drug three times more potent as their precious Ya-ba they use to keep industrial workers going they'll come for it too, by the hundreds." Krystal snapped, amazed at how naive Walter was being.

"So let the squint eyed rice pickers come too." he arrogantly spat, rolling his eyes at her.

"You think you're a professional because you've got a couple big time buyers in Las Vegas and one in Mexico. You think you're real badass vato with your sawed-off and a baseball bat." she laughed, mocking him.

"I don't know what you may have done in your lifetime old man, but I know what they've done. What they do to people every day. What they'll do to us if they trace the drugs back to us." she insisted, her tone becoming gravely serious.

"Cainville isn't exactly an ideal place to cook anymore either what with all these construction workers and tourists everywhere." she continued, staring him down.

"Besides bloodthirsty cartels and coma cozies coming after us it's too soon to set up shop after the murders. The investigation is still too fresh, all it'll take is one detective snooping around at the wrong moment." she told him with an air of finality, presenting her argument.

"I am the one running this operation. We start again when I say so." he bellowed, the temper Mac had inherited from him rising to the surface.

"Maybe it's time you retired, stepped down." She asserted, standing her ground when he stormed towards her, looking him straight in the eye.

When Walter grabbed for her she ducked out of reach, swinging around to grab his outstretched arm, using it to pin him painfully against the desk. Kristy twisted it until she heard his shoulder dislocate and she was sure she had his full attention.

"Your greed is going to fuck us all. I know you don't give a shit about me or Mac, even Regina. But what about Devon?" she whispered, pressing her body along his backside, using her weight to keep him down.

"Pretty little boy like him will get gang-raped in prison, become someone's bitch once they're done passing him around." She murmured against his ear. "And believe me that's a much kinder fate than ending up in one of cartel sheds, that is if they don't just put a bullet in his brain."

"If they had the slightest thought he had any information at all, or they were just having a bad day. They'll do unspeakable things to him, things much worse than what they did to me. And they'll make you watch." she told him softly in a way one would whisper words of affection to a lover.

After a moment of consideration on Walter's part Krystal watched his head lower to the desktop in submission before he nodded in agreement. She'd beaten him at his own game, using the person he loved to bend him to her will.

"The business starts when I say."


	3. The Girl

 

 

 

 

Rahul Esposito was a patient man. He believed good things came to those who waited. A theory that had served him well. He'd waited patiently and the product he'd been after had resurfaced months ago. A pleasant surprise since he'd assumed the creator of said product had perished in an unfortunate accident in the states.

Reclining against the cushioned couch on the veranda overlooking his lavish gardens, he motioned for his second in command to do the same. The mustached man in front of him sat cautiously. Though his boss was a calm levelheaded man, he had a very different side to him. One that would be the last thing you ever see if you were unfortunate enough to bring it out.

"Are the treatments helping your situation?" Rahul inquired, eyes sweeping over the scarred half of his companion.

Domingo nodded tersely in conformation at the mention of his disfigurement that resulted from chemical burns. His left side had all but been melted the night she'd escaped. The only thing that'd saved his life was the prisoner he'd brought back with him. Without the nigger he was sure the boss would have executed him for his failure.

"What news have you to bring me?" he demanded, lighting the cigar a servant procured for him.

"Senor we..we have lost the trail." Domingo informed him gravely, fearful of the reaction that was sure to come.

"Where?" he asked sharply, no longer leisurely puffing away on his Cuban.

"Senora, one of the northern states of Mexico." he supplied, relieved to see Rahul only wanted information at the moment and not blood.

"We found a distributor with three kilos of it locked away in a safe. He blew his own brains out the moment our men infiltrated his place." he continued, worrying his destroyed hand with his good one. "No records of business dealings were found and his phone records held nothing to further our search. We've deduced that the source isn't far though. Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, maybe Utah."

"Well that's a relief." his boss muttered, straightening his tie as he relaxed a bit, making his enforcer slightly confused.

"That means she is no longer under the protection of the Nigerians. There aren't any major claims on the area that are a threat to us. She's all alone." he elaborated with a sinister grin coming to his face.

"It's likely that she contacts the buyer from an untraceable number when their shipment is ready. Station a man where you found the product to wait for the call." he ordered, irritated that their search had been halted temporarily.

"Senor Esposito, news from the El Encanto project." a timid maid informed him when she was given permission to speak, extending the telephone outward with downcast eyes.

"Pardon me a moment Domingo I must take this, the damned natives refuse to cooperate." he sighed, snatching the phone from her trembling hands.

Dom watched as Rahul listened to the lieutenant's report. As his boss's grip tightened on the telephone and his crystal eyes rolled skyward he could tell it was not positive. The southern Colombian villages were perfect setups for drug manufacturing and resistant natives could not be tolerated. He was sure whatever solution he came up with would be downright barbaric, they were very much alike in that aspect of thinking. They didn't call him The White Butcher for nothing. El Carnicero Blanco.

"Here is what you do. Get the entire population out of their huts and into a large open area. Take their children and burn them alive one by one in front of everyone until the villagers agree. Shoot anyone who tries to intervene and do not call back until you have the answer I want." Rahul instructed over the line before hanging up.

"You just can't find any good help these days, idiots have no idea how to bend the people to our will. That's why you are so dear to me Domingo, you know how to get a job done right. For the most part." he added in reference to his largest failure, taking a sip of the cognac situated in front of him.

"Now tell me about the girl, this Krystal. It is too bad your communications were not up and running in time for me to witness her myself." he mused, studying the picture of a raven haired girl dressed in a cap and gown, staring vacantly back at the camera.

"She was creepy." Dom began, making Rahul's eyebrows rise in surprise. "I've tortured a lot a people in my time but this girl..it was like she wasn't even human."

"How do you mean?" Rahul asked, growing intrigued. He'd never seen his second in command shaken by anything let alone a pitiful little girl.

"She didn't react to the pain, didn't even flinch no matter what I subjected her to. I only had two days with her, but grown men have cracked under the procedure I put her through in hours." he elaborated, shuddering slightly at remembering the ghoulish smiles she would give him.

"Did she ever say anything?" Rahul questioned, gaze not wavering from the photo in his hand.

"No. She'd just laugh at me. It was more like a cackle really. Muy loco that one." he muttered, shaking his head. "I never believed the stories my abuela used to tell me when I was a kid but that girl must have a demonio inside her."

"A chemical imbalance in her brain is more likely." the lighter man scoffed, flicking an ash from his stogie off his white dress-shirt.

"Either way if we find her I'm going to use every trick I know to make that bitch scream." Domingo growled, clenching his mangled hand.

" _When_  we find the girl you will have your revenge my friend. After I get what I want." Rahul reassured him, snuffing his cigar out on the image of her stoic face.


	4. Blowing Off Steam

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mac had a love hate relationship with Krystal's job. On one hand he loved watching her prance around all done up in the too tight uniform his father had ordered for her. It even said Luna Messa Bar and Grill on her left tit. Having her on his arm while he played pool when she didn't have anything to do wasn't half bad either.

But on the other, he hated all the out of town men trying to flirt with his woman. Peeling off her already barely there clothing with their eyes, drunken whistles and catcalls, the occasional brave wandering hand. The reasons he sometimes came home with bloody knuckles at the end of her work night.

Tonight was fixin' to be one of those nights.

After her encounter with Walter Kristy was itching to blow off some steam. And she knew just the perfect way. A little payback was in order for Mac.

Last week he'd picked a nice little cheerleader road tripping with her squad to tease Krystal with. She'd broken the girl's perfect nose and just about broke Mac's dick fucking him with a vengeance in the cab of his truck.

Returning to her table of unruly fraternity boys she collected their dishes, making sure to accidentally drop a fork and bend at the hip to retrieve it. Giving them all a spectacular view of the treasures beneath her black pleated uniform skirt.

Mid-bend she rose her eyes in Mac's direction, looking at him from beneath her lashes, flashing him a smirk as she exposed herself to the college boys. He was mouthing something at her she couldn't make out, but it was quite clear he was pissed. When appreciative sounds were heard from the table behind her his knuckles turned white from his grasp tightening around his beer bottle.

She could expect a sound fucking later tonight when she got home. They'd found out early on that angry sex was second only to make up sex. Sometimes they picked fights with each other just for that reason alone. What she didn't expect was the hard slap her behind got from the bravest of the frat boys. Abruptly straightening, she used the assault to her advantage.

"If you ever touch me again I'll break every one of your god damn fingers." she threatened quietly, bending slightly to whisper in the prick's ear.

She said it slowly, so close to his ear her lips brushed against it a few times, making him shiver slightly. All through her threat her eyes kept wandering to Mac, a small naughty smile playing on her lips to make it look like she was whispering something quite different.

When she pulled away, turning to collect her tray from a table nearby, an arm hooked around her waist, pulling her down into the dark haired guy's lap. From the corner of her eye she spied Mac getting up. The sound of his bottle slamming against the bar had already been heard the moment he saw the arm reaching for her.

She had just enough time to grab the hand not holding her in place on the asshole's hardon. Bringing it downwards as if to slide his hand under her skirt she jammed the edge of the table in between his middle and ring finger, yanking downwards on the lower digits until she heard a satisfying snap and a scream.

Kristy didn't have time to see the crooked appendages for herself before fingers were weaving through her curls to yank her up out of the injured kid's lap. His hand stayed there, directing her towards the back of the bar, practically dragging her along when she stumbled once in her high heels. At first she thought Mac was taking her out back to that oh so special spot where he'd first taken what was his. That is, until the side of her face crashed into the ladies room door.

She had to catch herself on the sink he pushed her so hard. The defining click of the door's lock sliding into place told her she was really in for it.

"Stay there yew fuckin' lil slut." he roared, pushing her head down when she tried to look at him in the mirror, pulling her skirt up to expose her, jerking her panties down to her ankles.

With nothing else in sight to use Mac wrenched a picture frame from the wall. Gripping it in both hands he wound up, crashing it into her ass like he was hitting a grand slam home run. He kept at it, not stopping when she finally sucked in a pained breath of air. Still beating her until the glass shattered, several shards stabbing into her reddened flesh.

"Did I give ya permission ta fuckin' move?" he screamed when she jumped and straightened at the sting of the pieces cutting into her.

Mac threw the ruined picture aside, forcing her back into position before moving to pick the shards out of her ass. He ran his pointer finger along a particularly deep cut, coating it in crimson liquid before dragging it in a line along her lower back. He reloaded his finger several more times before maneuvering her around by her hair to look at her backside in the mirror.

There in the reflection was his name in backwards red letters just above the swell of her ass. Like a bloody tramp stamp from hell.

"Hmm I can't read it, what's that say? Mick?" she teased, grinning at him with every intention of making him blow his top.

"Says Mac, don' play stupid ya cunt." he snarled, smacking her throbbing ass with his palm before bending her back over the sink.

She was surprised at how gentle and feather light he was with her outer lips, sliding a quick finger along her shallow outer crease, wetting it before bringing it to his mouth to slowly suck clean as she watched his reflection. Kristy groaned when his reddened fingers entered her roughly, cramming in as much as he could until his palm restricted him from going further,

"Shouldn' be this wet from settin' on another man's dick. Er was it tha ass whoopin' that got ya soaked?" he hissed, curling his fingers downward to make her clench.

Truthfully it was the latter mixed with what had so rudely been interrupted by Devon earlier. But of course she opted to make it worse for herself.

"His little baby dick got me wet. What are you going to do about that?" she taunted at him, practically calling him out.

Mac's eyes narrowed into tiny slits, his lips smashed together in a hard line when his cheeks weren't billowing and concaving in rage induced pants while he unbuckled his belt. Normally when he asked a question like that she'd succumb to stroking his ego and telling him he owned every inch of her. She'd never taken it this far before. Neither had he.

The belt was doubled over, buckle to perforated end, clenched in his fist. The first few smacks weren't so bad but as he continued relentlessly she knew she'd pushed him too far this time. He didn't stop even when her behind was covered in fresh blood and bruises, the leather tearing into her already shredded ass. Only her first shaky sob broke through his red haze of anger.

He looked up to find her breathing hard with black mascara lines running down her cheeks.

"More." she breathed out unsteadily when he looked at her uncertainly with something bordering on regret.

The sound of his zipper being yanked down was heard along with his pants dropping to the floor before he roughly shoved his cock inside her. His hips and thighs smacking against her tender ass when he bottomed out served as her further punishment. Sure he was pounding into her at a pace worthy of ravagement but his anger had simmered out during her beating. That just wouldn't do for the level of violence she was craving now.

"His tiny cock felt so good rubbing up against me. I think I'll let him fuck me after you're done." she provoked, hanging her head to become unresponsive and anger him further.

Mac wound her hair around his fist so tight it ripped from her scalp in certain spots. He pulled her head up, forcing her to watch him pound into her from behind. His thrusts magnified to the degree that she felt something tear painfully, though she was soaked to the bone. Her scream was music to his ears.

"I'll fuckin' kill yew b'fore another guy'll get ta fuck ya. He'll haveta fuck yer pretty corpse." he rumbled lowly in her ear as he nestled his chin on her shoulder to watch the show as well.

When she closed her eyes on his unwavering gaze his other hand came up to clutch her jaw, squeezing until her midnight eyes opened for him again. Pulling her head around to face him until her neck resisted with a pop he smashed his mouth against hers, forcing his tongue inside when she resisted.

Once he'd had his fill of assaulting her mouth he pulled away, sneering at her before spitting in her face and roughly shoving it back to towards the mirror. When her head hung limply again he snapped.

"Yew looket me when 'm fuckin' ya, filthy bitch." he growled, snatching his discarded belt from the toilet seat.

Kristy knew she wouldn't last much longer as the leather strap was slipped around her neck and tightened until he could pull her head up by it. His grunts were her undoing combined with the belt cutting off her air supply. She came hard on his dick, pulsing with an intensity that made him stop and groan, swearing aloud before looking at her in disbelief through the reflective surface.

"Did I give ya permissin' ta cum?" he demanded in outrage, smacking her ass with his free hand before pulling out of her.

Mac spun her around sharply, picking her up by her raw ass before dropping her down harshly on the counter top. Its cold surface was a slight reprieve from the fiery pain scorching her bottom.

"Did I?" he asked quietly with a soft caress of his thumb along her black tearstained cheek, switching moods so quickly it almost disoriented her.

"N-no." she whimpered, still shaking slightly with the force of her orgasm.

His open palm met that same cheek without much force behind it. Just enough to turn her head away and give him a bare expanse of neck to bite into while he slowly slid his dick back inside her abused entrance. Grabbing her behind the knees he wrapped her legs around his hips while he continued his leisurely pace, retracting his length slowly until only the tip was left inside. Making the sting last longer. Once her ankles were locked at the base of his spine he used the belt to pull her forward until her forehead was pressed against his, forcing her to look up into his eyes.

"Who da yew belong ta? Who owns that pussy?" he challenged in a soft tone, taking in her dazed appearance.

"You Mac, only you." she vowed quietly, digging her heels into his ass to bring him back in.

"Thas right." he praised, kissing her lips gently before allowing her head to rest against his chest.


	5. Class Dismissed

 

 

 

 

"How are Mitosis and Meiosis different?" Kristy ground out through clenched teeth.

She was spread out across the couch, naked lacerated ass situated in Mac's lap with a textbook laid out in front of her on a cushion.

"Mitosis makes new cells with alla tha DNA an Meiosis makes new cells with half tha DNA." he answered after thinking for a moment, swiping a cotton ball saturated in peroxide across the last of the cuts.

"In what year was slavery abolished in the United States?" she quizzed him, jumping topics without warning.

"1869?" he guessed, unscrewing the cap to the antibiotic ointment.

"Close, 1863." she corrected him, jumping slightly at cold cream meeting the skin that was still on fire from its earlier beating.

"We've still got a week, don't worry." she reassured him when he growled in frustration at being wrong.

Though she already had her diploma Krystal had enrolled in the accelerated credit night classes with Mac to support him. He'd struggled through all the preparation tests so far and the final one was looming on the horizon. She knew he was nervous and she was too. Cramming years worth of stolen education into a few months wasn't going very smoothly. He'd be lucky if he passed with the bare minimum score.

"Week aint 'nough." he grumbled, making sure to patch the gauze extra thick so she didn't bleed through her clothes in front of everyone at class that night.

"If it isn't then we take the courses again until you pass." she proclaimed, ignoring his irritated huff.

When Dr. Mac was finished taping the last gauze pad to her butt she moved herself to straddle his legs, taking in his downtrodden appearance and discouraged frown.

"I believe in you Mac, I believe you can do this." she told softly him, rubbing her hands along his shoulders.

"And I believe it feels like I'm wearing a fucking diaper." she scowled, twisting to look over her shoulder at her own ass, bringing a smile to his face.

"Can't have ya bleedin' through in fronta pra'fesser dick-wad." he chuckled, running a hand lightly over her bandages.

Mac's distain for their teacher wasn't a secret. And the professor's for him wasn't either.

"We need to improve your reading level a little more. Did you start the book I assigned you?" she asked, snatching his wandering hands.

"Read mosta it, romance novels'er ridiculous. Aint no pussy taste like honey er peaches n' cream. Shits unrealistic." he grumbled, fighting to get his hands free and continue groping.

"And what purpose do those unrealistic words serve?" she questioned, entwining her fingers through his to further trap them.

"Imag'ry." he sighed, relenting to let their entwined hands drop to his chest.

"Very good." she praised him, moving his hands to her breasts as a reward.

"What is imagery by definition?" she demanded, showing no mercy when it came to studying even with her fleshy distractions filling his hands.

"Means ta….ta use..figurative language ta represent objects, actions an ideas ina way that appeals ta our physical senses." he struggled, grasping for the words through the thick hazy lustful fog clouding his brain.

"That is correct." she affirmed with a grin, leaning in to capture his lips.

"What imagery would you use to describe these?" she asked, jutting her chest out further towards him.

"Fun bags, hootenannies, human milk cartons." he joked, playfully slapping her tits around before tweaking and pulling at a nipple.

"Cut it out! If you make me start lactating again from playing with them too much I swear you're going to get a kick in the nuts." she warned, slapping his hand away from her rosy tip. "I still can't believe I let you milk me like a cow. You get enjoyment out of the weirdest shit." she added with a laugh, shaking her head while looking at him in a fond manner.

"Wut an tha lil game ya like playin', fittin' ma balls back in ther sockets aint weird?" he countered, raising a brow at her.

"Alright we're both weirdos. Let me get some clothes on so we aren't tardy again." she snickered, leaning in to peck his lips quickly before gingerly maneuvering herself off his lap.

As he watched her gauze swaddled retreating backside with a lopsided grin her words echoed through his mind.  _"I believe in you Mac."_

His smile faded as the anxiety of the looming test washed over him. The fact that at least she believed he could do it gave him hope. He was scared shitless of failing and even more so at disappointing her. But he was going to give it everything he had. He felt he at least owed Krystal that.

Mac never thought he'd be working towards his high school diploma with an actual legitimate job and the same loyal woman warming his bed every night. It was the closest to normalcy he'd ever had in his life and he liked it. It almost felt like the bloodlust and murderous memories of his past belonged to someone else. And he'd never been happier to feel that way.

She'd dozed off in the car. The Freemont county community center their classes were held in was a good forty-five minute drive. That's all she got before he had to interrupt her siesta.

So when Mac looked over to find Krystal slumped against the open calculus book on her desk with her head burrowed into her arms, he didn't wake her. He knew she was getting next to no sleep in between her job, him, and the night classes. The fact that she could even doze off while sitting on her freshly injured behind amazed him.

"Mrs. Bradly I trust you have the correct answer as always." the teacher called out, glaring at her sleeping form.

When the professor called out for her answer a second time Mac leaned across the isle, jabbing her in the ribs with the eraser end of his pencil. Kristy's head popped up, hair sticking out in odd directions, drool glistening from the corner of her mouth, eyes unfocused with slumber. Giving the other students something to laugh at. The old fart thought he'd finally gotten her.

"Nine thousand two hundred and forty-seven point fucking three." she slurred out, glaring back at him, making Mac shake with silent laughter.

"Mr. Garcia solve the next equation." demanded the tweed-clad prune at the front.

She'd just put her head back down when the irritating voice called Mac out. This was the hardest part of the classes for him. Being called on and usually not having the correct answer.

Cracking one eye open she used the limited light streaming in through her arms to solve it before Mac could let out his first anxiety riddled throat clear or embarrassed fidget. Sticking her fingers out near her armpit she held out four before balling them back up in a fist and sticking another one out.

"Tha value a X is forty-one." he gruffly mumbled out, staring down the displeased teacher.

When it finally came time for their lunch break so to speak Mac shook her lightly, snickering at her disoriented appearance.

"Thank god, as if I didn't hate high school enough the first time round." she grumbled only loud enough for him to hear.

Her uncoordinated footsteps had almost made it out the door when an insistent throat clear sounded out and her name were called from the desk at the front of the room.

"I'd like to have a word with you privately." the old man added when Mac followed behind her.

"I'll meet you out by the truck." she sighed with a nod over her shoulder at him.

"What can I do for you Mr. Campbell?" she inquired lethargically after he only silently scrutinized her for a few minutes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You can tell me just what you're doing here Mrs. Bradley." the sour old coot countered, crossing his arms as well.

"I'm here to get my education." she replied flatly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Don't piss on my back and tell me it's raining missy. You spend half my classes unconscious and the other half showing me up in front of my students. Your test scores are four point oes across the board, you even get the extra credit questions right. Now I ask you again. What are you doing here?" he demanded, wrinkled face reddening.

She was a little taken aback by the pure frustration shaking his frail frame. She let out a small laugh, shaking her head, averting her gaze down to her feet. She'd let him make his own assumptions, come to his own conclusions.

"I know it's got something to do with that good for nothing delinquent that's your shadow every night. If I catch you helping him cheat it'll be the end of it for the both of you." he hollered hoarsely, shaking his pathetic fist at her.

At his accusation she snapped, rushing forward to slam her open palms down on his desk. Making him jump and clutch at his heart.

"If I was helping him with fraudulent answers don't you think he'd be doing a bit better than just barely scraping by with minimal test scores?" she snarled, leaning closer to snatch his tie and use it to pull him in. "Mac is earning his education fair and square. And I'll be damned if some delusional dinosaur is going to fuck it up."

"You're going to forget this idiotic notion, you're going to stop putting him on the spot during classes, and you're going to stop disrupting my nap time. Am I clear Mr. Campbell?" she growled quietly, not letting go until he nodded silently in affirmation.

"I look forward to the rest of our educational time together, it's been a true learning experience." she sarcastically threw over her shoulder as she made her way out the door.

Mac watched from his leaned stance against the side of his trusty rusty junker. Fancy him being the studious one while she became the class bad girl.

"Mus be in tha fuckin' twilight zone." he muttered, eerily crossing his arms over his chest at the same time she did as the old windbag spoke to her.

He himself jumped slightly when she lunged lightning fast at the old man. Whatever he'd said must have struck a nerve because the face Mac could see illuminated in the harsh florescent classroom light was demonic. Taking a nervous drag off his cigarette he debated on intervening before she murdered their professor and he had to take the damned classes all over again.

Slight relief swept over him as she released the geezer after getting a nod. Mac watched her through the community center's windows. Effortlessly stalking her as she made her way through the hallways to the exit.

"Tha fuck was that alla 'bout? Prolly made 'em shit his old man diaper." he chuckled as she crossed the parking lot, drawing nearer with uneven steps thanks to the bandages.

"At first I thought he'd caught me using my fingers to give you the answer to that last question. He didn't and as it turns out he thought I was helping you cheat regardless. But I changed his mind." she told him with a sly smirk, stealing his smoke as she moved to lean against the truck beside him.

"Didn' use yer fingers, figured it out on ma own." he admitted bashfully, kicking a pebble away from his boot while keeping his eyes on the ground.

He let out a soft "oof" as the wind was knocked out of his lungs and a tiny body crashed into his chest. While her arms circled his neck he snaked his own around her waist, melting into the hug without hesitation.

"I'm proud of you Mackie." she whispered, squeezing him tighter before pulling slightly back when he lightly growled at the use of the annoying nickname she favored.

"Got lucky, it was jus a easy one." he murmured with a shrug, tightening his grip so she couldn't go far.

"Shut up, let me be pwoud of my smawt wittle man." she demanded in a sickening baby-talk voice, covering his mouth with her palm, pinching his cheek with the other hand.

Mac couldn't roll his eyes high enough at her antics.

Half way through their drive home it sounded like a bomb went off right in front of them. Usually frantic swerving accompanied such a sound as a result of a blown tire. But they slowly and steadily coasted to a stop instead with the clanking sound of car parts leaving a breadcrumb trail behind them. With smoke pouring from the seams of the hood Mac knew Ol' Red was done for this time.

"I'm sorry Mac but you knew it was going to go soon." Krystal sympathized as she watched him sit back against the bench seat in defeat.

"Could maybe still fix it." he grumbled defiantly, opening the door to inspect the inner damage.

"Blow up Richie's phone 'till he wakes up." he instructed, throwing her his cell.

With a deep sigh she scrolled down to the name "Grease Monkey" and hit send. While ringing met her ear she hoped to hell nothing else happened in the upcoming week before the test. Mac couldn't afford anymore distractions.


	6. Hijo De Perra

 

 

Though she'd only been getting a scant few hours of sleep recently, Krystal enjoyed her mornings. She'd let Mac sleep in while she brewed coffee and took some time for herself out on the patio with a cup of black caffeine and a cigarette. The changing seasons called for a sweater and a pair of sweats on this particular morning while she watched the sun rise.

Though it wasn't quite winter yet she'd gone into panic mode the day light, airy, white flakes fell from the sky. You didn't take snow lightly where she was from. Thankfully none of it had stuck to the ground but she'd eyed the crystallized water resentfully none the less. She'd been living under the comforting delusion that it didn't snow out in the desert.

"Fucking bullshit." she muttered into her cup, taking another sip of the steaming liquid while snowflakes slowly floated down to the dirt.

Absentmindedly stroking the slobbering mongrel beside her while bringing the cigarette to her lips for another slow inhale of nicotine, she made a mental note of the morning to-do list.

' _Make sure Mac has clean coveralls for work. Dump a shitload of baby powder in his work boots to fight that god-awful smell…I wonder if he's got some kind of foot fungus.. Check Mac's homework. Get ready for work myself. Roll Mac his 'special cigarettes' for the day. Feed Haus. Cook breakfast. Wake my man-child.'_

"Come on mutt, lets get the day started." she yawned, chugging the rest of her coffee in one go.

Every time Mac woke up not terrorized by a nightmare he half thought he had to be dreaming and the terror wasn't far behind. This morning was no exception. The hand rubbing his back was small and soft aside from the slightly rough finger pads where prints had been burnt off.

Mac let out a quiet content sound, snuggling into the warmth and comfort of their bed, not keen on leaving it. Or having the hand cease its caressing.

"Come on it's time to get up. Get dressed, breakfast is on the table." she told him quietly, watching as he rolled onto his back, unable to keep a grin from cracking her face at his bed-ruffled appearance.

Looking up at her he told himself it had to be a dream. Her hair was curled and teased into high perfection, makeup applied with skill, waitress uniform pristine and wrinkle free. And she was smiling, pearly teeth accentuated by pouty lips and extended scar lines.

' _Why she gotta be so fuckin' beautiful this early in tha mornin'?'_ he wondered, noting the fact that he'd never thought of any woman as "beautiful" before.

"Fuckin' Christ!" he squealed, squirming to get away from the ice cold foot that had just lodged itself under his toasty thigh.

"Get moving or the other one is headed straight for your crotch." she threatened on her way out after she was done cackling at his reaction.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes Mac made his way to the chair she'd laid out his clothes for the day on. She babied the shit out of him but he wasn't complaining. It was a nice change to have someone taking care of him for once. And quite honestly he'd grown accustomed to the special treatment she lavished him with. Krystal knew just what he liked and how he liked it, from the garlic salt and ketchup on his eggs to the fabric softener scent he preferred. The best part was that she still did all these extra things for him unconditionally even if she was pissed at him, even if he never did anything in return.

' _S' called unconditional love dumbass, sumthin' ya aint never had b'fore….er love period.'_ Mac told himself, trying to shake uncomfortable thoughts of the L-word from his mind.

He was distracted by a plume of white powder shooting from his boot when he shoved his foot inside.

"Krys wut tha fuck?" he demanded, walking into the kitchen with one boot in hand, the other untied and making faint white poot clouds as he walked.

"Your feet reek, I had to do it." she replied flatly, turning to look at him as she buttered the last slice of toast.

"I don' wanna be smellin' like a baby's ass all day." he growled, walking to the trashcan to dump out as much of the offending white powder as he could.

"It's better than smelling like rotting feet all day. Spray some of that cologne I got you around your ankles, that should mask the powder." she suggested, bringing a small stack of toast to the table.

"Yer prolly right, that shit'll choke a horse." he grumbled under his breath as she returned with his plate.

"It's Calvin Klein and it smells sexy." she argued, sitting down with her own food.

"Smells like ass." he snapped, jamming a fork loaded with egg, toast and bacon into his mouth.

"Unrealistic imagery." she teased, looking up at him through her lashes with a smirk.

"What's the deal with Red?" Kristy asked before taking a deep inhale, holding it in.

She was thankful she had opted for the extra dark tint on the Denali's replacement windows. Perfect for concealing the thick cloud of smoke hanging in the air inside the vehicle.

"Aint no way ta fix it. M' gonna scrap it today." Mac answered glumly, accepting the joint from her outstretched fingers.

"You can keep it in the yard if you want to, I know how much it meant to you. It'll be like a hillbilly lawn ornament." she offered, not keen on having the eyesore stick around but willing to tolerate it for his sake.

Mac had used his very first cut from the business to buy it off a crooked car salesmen who wasn't concerned that he didn't have license. That truck was a symbol of the only form of success he'd had in his life yet. Which was why she offered to let it stay with the hope that he would have something bigger to be proud of in the future and would be willing to let it go one day. The way his face lit up was more than worth the annoyance of having the junker rusting away in front of the house. His goofy grin told her it'd be there waiting when they got back home.

"Since you'll be driving this for a while the registration is here." she told him, pointing to the glove box. "And just in case you get pulled over, this needs to go in your wallet." she instructed, handing him a flat piece of plastic.

"How in tha.." he muttered looking down at the very legitimate looking drivers license.

"Don't ask, I just know people. Snapped the picture when you were willing and plastered one night. And I used my birthday instead of yours since you won't tell me when it is." she elaborated, snatching the doobie while he gawked at the license.

She half suspected he either didn't know when his birthday was and was too ashamed to admit it despite insisting that he knew he was older. Or he didn't want her making a big fuss over it when the day came.

Mac knew she had connections from her old life before Cainville but he couldn't help the curiosity prickling him.

' _What tha hell kinda people was she runnin' with b'fore she came out here?'_ he wondered while slipping the card into the clear patch in his wallet designed for holding it.

"I got a passport made too, just in case we ever need to flee the country.  _'Or continent.'_ " she half joked, cringing internally at the thought that accompanied her statement.

Kristy hadn't informed him of the dangers that may still be hunting her. Choosing instead not to worry him and keep the always present fear to herself. She didn't want him constantly looking over his shoulder or scrutinizing every person around like she had to. She didn't want that burden weighing on him when his life was finally almost worry free.

"I want you to finish that book today and start another one." she ordered, pulling a new one from her bag. "I don't care if you have to read it while you smoke on your breaks I want it done today." she demanded, pointing a ruby fingernail at his outraged face.

"Aint another sappy romance novel is it?" he almost pouted, accepting the book in one hand and the rolled drugs in the other.

"I only gave you that kind because I thought you'd be more inclined to read it if sex was in the material." she admitted with a shrug. "This one is a horror tale by Stephen King, one of my favorite authors."

"An it's a million pages long goddamnit." he complained, thumbing through a book three times the size of the one he was supposed to finish.

"Your page rate is getting faster, you'll get through it in no time." she scoffed, reluctant to discourage him by telling him about the much larger words used in king's literature.

"It's about that time again." she sighed, snuffing the roach out in the ashtray.

They rolled their windows down as usual, exiting the vehicle while the hotboxed car emptied itself of its skunky contents. Mac watched as she walked slightly ahead, silent appreciation running through him for the black cotton tights she'd fought Walter to have added to her uniform in light of the changing weather. No more skirt-show for other men.

As he caught up to her Mac presented her with a lit cigarette. Looking to further their time together before he had to leave. She accepted it, listening to the sound of him lighting one up for himself as they made their way across the lot. And her heels clicking as she walked effortlessly across the smooth blacktop. Another war she'd won against Walter.

"I'll call a little before lunch to get your order." she huffed once both their smokes were flicked away.

It was still difficult for them even though they'd been doing it for months now. After getting accustomed to being together all day every day in the cave it felt unnatural to part ways for the day. But they'd endured with lunchtime quickies when Kristy delivered him lunch. That is, until the truck blew.

They both hesitated a few more minutes, reluctant to say goodbye. Until an obnoxious rapping on the window nearest them sounded. Walter's red face glaring at her shown through the glass, mouthing "Vámonos!". He looked more pissed off than usual today.

"I'll be there in a minute!" she screamed back at him, scaring a customer passing by.

Kristy let out a deep sigh, coming forward to wrap her arms around Mac's neck, leaning in to press her lips against his. He kissed her back, sliding a hand around the back of her neck to keep her in place when she tried to pull away too soon for his liking.

"See ya at lunch." he chuckled, taking in the view of her dazed appearance for a second before turning away.

Mac walked away with a smug smile on his face, hands shoved in his coverall pockets, pretty pleased with himself that he could still do that to her with just a kiss. While she was busy gazing at Mac's backside another sharp wrap on the window interrupted her oogling. Kristy stomped inside, purposely ignoring Walter's glare.

"I'm not paying you to play grab-ass on the front walk." he growled, following after her.

"Fuck you Walter, fuck you very much." she retorted, throwing a finger over her shoulder as she headed towards the office to deposit her coat and purse.

Side stepping him when he attempted to talk to her Kristy made her way over to the jukebox. Slipping a quarter from her witnessing apron she selected one of the Motown songs she'd rallied to replace a few of the less played honkey-tonk songs. With 'Will you still love me tomorrow' by The Shirelles playing as her background music she started clearing neglected tables until Walter approached her.

"That bitch in the corner needs her order taken." he growled, pointing to the lady watching them from her table.

"Then clean this shit up while I take care of her, where's that damn busboy you promised me Walter!" she snapped, resisting the urge to smash a coffee cup into the side of his face.

Not allowing her jackass boss to ruin her mood she made her way over to her first table of the day singing along to the oldies tune she adored.

"Good morning, my Name is Kristy, I'll be waiting on you today. Can I start you off with something to drink? Coffee, juice, milk?" she cheerfully asked, pad and pen ready for the order.

The woman didn't answer, staring vacantly at her face before glancing at her name-tag which sported her full name thanks to Walter. At Kristy's throat clear the woman's icy eyes flickered back to her face.

"Young love, what a beautiful thing. I saw you out there with your boyfriend, just couldn't pull yourself away from him could you." the customer finally croaked out with almost a mocking humor in her voice, the tenor a harsh and ragged sound from years of hard drinking and endless packs of cigarettes.

"Yeah..he's really something." she replied with a slight laugh of her own, the hint of a blush coming to her cheeks.

"Can I get you something to drink or would you like to order now?" Kristy asked once more when the woman only stared at her again as though she were studying her face.

"Whiskey on the rocks." she bit out curtly, not taking her cold gaze from the face of the girl serving her.

"Alright I'll be right back with that." she told her a little less cheerfully.

Krystal had grown used to tourists staring at her scars, some even asking about them. But this woman's gaze was different. It wasn't out of curiosity or horror, but recognization.

The lady in the corner stayed there all morning, ordering only a side of toast when Kristy returned with her drink aside from her repeated order for more booze. Quite frankly the eyes following every move she made had her on edge. The woman didn't talk to anyone or look at anything else aside from Walter occasionally. And even he had gone to hide out in the office, calling in Devon to man the bar. She could feel the woman's eyes on her even as she leaned over the bar to speak with Devon.

"Hey string-bean come here." she called out to him from the other end.

"That woman in the corner, is she still staring at me?" she quietly asked when he made it to where she was.

"Yup." he confirmed after glancing quickly around Kristy's form.

"Have you ever seen her before? She looks like she'd belong in the kind of crowd that left town when we closed up but I don't recognize her." she noted, referring to the woman's leathery skin and general skuzzy appearance.

"Nope, she wasn't one of the ones on the delivery route. I'd know, those bugged out faces still haunt me. Hard to forget." he replied, leaning in to gossip about the blond stranger.

"Hey do you know when Mac's birthday is by any chance?" she inquired after giving Devon the rundown on Miss Creep.

"No." he answered with a look like she'd asked him if he knew the square root of pi.

"Fuckin' A your father doesn't either. What the hell is wrong with you people, that's something you're supposed to know about family." she scowled, motioning for him to hand her the bar phone.

After she dialed the auto garage she pointed towards the direction of the lady again, raising an eyebrow at Devon in silent question. At his slight nod her lips pursed into a thin line while rings met her ear.

"Hey Rich I've got a question. When Mac interviewed for the job what did he put down on the application under date of birth?" she demanded, confident this would be the end of her search.

Devon watched as her excited smile turned into a frown.

"What kind of second rate rinky-dink shop are you running over there Richie, who the fuck doesn't have their applicants fill out a form?" she bitched, massaging the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

"Alright whatever, get Mac on the line." she growled at his half-assed reply, huffing out a frustrated breath when she only got a "What?" over the line from him.

"Get Mac!" she shouted into the receiver of the phone, trying to out-screech the power tools drowning her out on his end, causing all heads to turn towards her instead of just the particular one.

"Tell me what you want for lunch so I can have it ready when you get here." she instructed into the receiver, her tone becoming noticeably lighter at Mac coming onto the line. "Alright, see you soon." she replied after writing down his order of chicken noodle soup and a turkey sandwich with fries.

The ridiculous giddiness sweeping through her at the anticipation of seeing Mac again was crushed and replaced with anxiety when she turned to see the woman raising her glass and shaking it at her. Plastering a fake smile on her face she refilled the woman's drink.

Mac sauntered into la Mesa and over to his usual place at the bar. He was beginning to wonder where Kristy was at until she emerged from the kitchen with his order balanced on a tray. She served him before coming around to sit on the stool beside him, getting a kiss for her troubles.

While Mac began to eat Kristy could see out of her peripheral vision that the woman in the corner was getting up from her seat, finally leaving she hoped. After a particularly weird question about what Mac's name was, Kristy had commanded Devon to wait on her from then on. So he could deal with it if the woman tried to run out on her tab.

Krystal turned her head slightly more towards her when the woman headed in their direction instead of the exit. She stiffened beside Mac, in no mood to have the creepy cougar hitting on her man.

The woman stopped a few feet from them, swaying a bit in her drunkenness while she peered closer at Mac.

"Well looket my little cockroach all grown up. Come ere an give mama a hug." she slurred, opening her arms wide.

* * *

_Krystal's good morning motown tune is located here_ [[ X ]](https://youtu.be/4NwjqRZ9J_M)

 


	7. Mama's Got a Brand New Bag

 

 

 

 

She couldn't believe the old dump was still in one piece let alone doing moderately well. There were actually cars in the parking lot. There was an actual parking lot period. Cainville in general wasn't the same deserted shit hole it was the last time she'd been in town. The fact that Walter's legitimate business wasn't shut down but rather thriving gave her a thrill of avarice.

' _Hopefully I'll be able to get the money I need out of him and then some.'_ she thought greedily as she parked up front.

Arlene checked her makeup in the rear view quickly, adding another layer of bright pink lipstick to her cracked and chapped mouth. Walter's standards weren't too high back then and she doubted they'd improved since then.

The inside hadn't changed much aside from the bar being extended and a couple of pool tables added in the back. The atmosphere brought back fond memories of her sister and the depraved adventures they'd indulged in during their visits to Cainville.

' _Too bad we ruined it all getting knocked up.'_ she mused, her first thought of her son in many years.

When Walter spotted her in the doorway his mouth dropped open in disbelief before his expression turned to one of anger. Storming around the bar he wanted nothing more than to backhand the smirk she sported right off her face as he approached.

"Get the fuck out of my bar." he growled quietly so none of the patrons would hear.

"Take your hand off me right now and seat me or else I will make a scene in front of all your nice paying customers and you know I will." she threatened when he grabbed her upper arm to throw her out.

Walter didn't remove his hand, instead tightening his grip as he steered her over to a vacant table in the corner away from customers.

"Sit, we need to talk." she demanded, pointing to the chair across from her as she dug for a pack of cigarettes in her purse.

"Talk about what? How you stuck me with a pain in the ass kid who probably wasn't even mine?" he snapped, throwing himself into the chair.

"I'll get right to the point. I owe some very dangerous people money and I don't have it." she admitted, ignoring Walter's sarcastic question while she lit up.

"You got a lot a nerve coming in here asking me for money after what you did. You're not getting a single cent from me." Walter spat, face reddening in anger at her audacity.

Arlene sat studying him for a moment, trying to measure all the angles she could play.

"Is Mackenzie still alive?" she inquired, turning away to gaze out the window apathetically.

"Yeah he is. He goes by Mac now and he's doing pretty well for himself, not that you give a shit." he sneered, showing only a scant bit of fatherly pride for his son in light of her presence.

"He has money?" she asked, immediately more interested in her son at the prospect of getting some cash out of him.

"In a way yes. But good luck trying to pull the 'mommy's here now' bullshit you're no doubt cooking up in that conniving brain of yours you fucking deadbeat. You've been replaced. And she's the one with the money." he laughed with a smirk, almost excited for Krystal to arrive for once.

"What do you mean replaced?" she snapped, blowing a stream of smoke in his face, ashing on his floor.

"Hell he's practically married now, moved in with her and everything. She takes care of him real nice. To the point that it crosses over into the motherly Oedipus zone in a way. She's the mama you never were and more." he taunted, more than happy to use their son's weird relationship to take a dig at Arlene.

"Who is she." she questioned while pursing her age lined lips, visibly begrudged at the thought of some other woman taking care of her baby boy, a definite first for her.

"That's the best part." Walter chuckled, remembering her rage and jealousy upon finding out about her sister stealing Arlene's man while she had another one engaged to her and possibly getting knocked up by Walter.

"It's Charlene's girl, Krystal." he gladly told her with a twisted grin, leaning back in his chair with smug satisfaction.

Arlene's eyes widened, her mouth hanging loose with shock at all the disgusting implications that his answer held.

"Is she yours?" she finally sourly bit out, more outraged about Charlene having possibly carried Walter's child than the possibility of her son shaking up with his sister like a backwoods freak.

Walter kept his relaxed position only giving a slight shrug, smirk held firmly in place as he made her wait for an answer, glancing out the window only to have his smile widen.

"Here come the happy couple now." he teased, pointing to the pair crossing the parking lot side by side.

All Arlene could see of the girl at a distance was her sister's oil black hair blowing in the wind. She wasn't interested in getting a glimpse of the man her son had grown into, just the meal ticket at his side. He wasn't much to look at anyways in her opinion.

"Is the bitch yours or not." she growled, not taking her eyes off them as they came to stand a few windows away while finishing their cigarettes.

"We had a paternity test done but I never saw the results, only they know." he finally admitted, looking around her to the several tables that needed service.

"Look I'm not giving you the money and I seriously doubt she will either. Especially if Mac has told her any lovely childhood stories about you." he speculated, getting up from the table to get Krystal into work.

"I'm not leaving until I get what I need." she insisted, grabbing onto Walter's wrist as he tried to walk away.

"You'd best just get out of town quietly before she knows who you are." he advised, snatching his wrist out of her grasp to knock on the window closest to them.

Arlene watched as her niece and her son locked lips, the wheels in her head turning as she struggled to form a plan. She figured the best bet was getting in good with her son and hope he hadn't spilled any of her dirty deeds from his early years. The way the girl was gazing after him all love struck didn't slip by her, she planned on using that love to get what she wanted.

"Send the little cunt to take my order." she barked out at Walter as he tapped on the window a second time.

She was definitely Charlene's daughter. If the raven hair hadn't tipped her off the attitude definitely did. Arlene had to admire the girl's disregard for the facade of authority Walter tried to exude.

As the hussy approached her table and offered her something to drink she couldn't take her eyes off the girl's destroyed face. Though there weren't any other waitresses she felt she had to check her name tag for confirmation. It was her. And she perfectly matched the description of a girl the men Arlene owed a great deal of money to were searching for.

Anyone involved in anything concerning drugs south of the border had heard rumors of a black-haired girl with a Glasgow grin being sought by El Carnicero Blanco. Spouting off some nonsense about young love she kept herself composed but on the inside she was ecstatic, studying the girl's face while she asked for an order again. Fairly sure she'd just found her ticket to freedom Arlene figured a few celebratory drinks were in order.

While Krystal was busy collecting the dirty dishes from a table nearby in the late morning sun streaming through the windows she quickly snapped a discreet photo, making sure to catch the scars highlighted by the rays of sunshine. She sent it to the enforcer handling her debt and waited. By noon she was beginning to think it wasn't the right person. Until she received a call from a number she did not recognize just as the girl was busy talking with the bartender. Keeping her eyes on the prize she continued watching her as she answered the phone.

"Make no move to take her yourself she his highly capable and dangerous. We need her over the border with her product in order to obtain her. A condition for which we have a plan in place. What you owe is forgiven. You are to stay close to her, watch her and report to this number. You will be compensated greatly for your services." a deep voice commanded before hanging up.

With all her troubles ended by a simple one-sided phone call she raised her glass at Krystal, shaking the ice around to signify her need for another celebratory drink. This one was especially in her honor.


	8. Willing to Fight For You

 

 

 

 

Her response to put herself in between Mac and what she saw as a danger to him was automatic. A natural reflex to protect the person she cherished most in the world. Something the woman in front of her had failed miserably at doing, her one supreme duty as a mother.

Krystal couldn't hear nor see anything else around her, rage tunneling her senses to focus on the threat. She started forward with every intention of ripping Arlene's throat out with her bare hands. And she would have killed her right there in front of countless witnesses if not for the strong arms encircling her waist, lifting her off the ground.

When Mac heard those words he just about choked on his soup while a chill ran up his spine simultaneously. Swiveling around on the bar stool he was afforded a few seconds to take in the sight of an extremely aged and haggard version of what he vaguely remembered his mother to look like. Before his line of vision was blocked by black hair and a trembling frame.

He didn't even have a second to absorb the shock of seeing the deserter bitch again before Krystal was lunging for the woman in front of her. Growling and snarling unintelligible words she sounded more like a rabid she-wolf than a human female. Mac acted fast, getting her in an iron clad hold against his chest and removing her chance of wriggling free by taking away her footing on the ground. He had to retreat a few steps when she resorted to her only option of striking with her feet, spiked heel missing his mother's face by an inch.

Her struggling ceased after a few more moments of unrestrained enraged screaming and thrashing when she realized there was no getting free without hurting Mac.

"Por favor, déjame matarla."  _please let me kill her_  she hissed as she hung limply in his arms, never taking her murderous gaze off the wasted whore staring open-mouthed at her shockingly vicious display.

"No hay demasiada gente mirando"  _No there's too many people watching_  he growled in her ear, truly wanting to let Krystal give that cunt the beating of a lifetime.

Mac was disturbed to find he had mixed emotions about letting her kill his mother. Somewhere inside him was the little wide eyed child that had waited hopefully for her return. Even though Krystal filled the void his mother had left in him and he had no need for her, he couldn't help not wanting her dead.

Just when Kristy seemed to have her head about her again and he let go of her his mother opened her mouth.

"Come give your mother a hug you worthless little shit." Arlene sneered, angered in her intoxication that her son refused to even look at her.

Mac wasn't fast enough this time and gasps along with a scream or two issued from customers as they watched their waitress tackle the older woman to the ground. He stood there for a moment admiring the insane gleam in her eyes as Krystal slammed her fist into his mother's face over and over with a handful of blond hair clutched in the other.

Arlene got in one good punch that sent the crazy bitch reeling, knocking her from the straddling position she'd used to entrap her. She only managed to crawl a foot away before she felt a bear trap of a hand closing around her ankle, dragging her back.

She was flipped over onto her back and the sight that met her swelling eyes was chilling. Small strong hands wrapped around her throat while bodyweight was used to further cut off her air supply. Her blurring vision held onto the black eyes locked with hers. They were wide and unfocused, bloodthirsty.

"You will not-" Kristy began venomously with bared teeth as she watched the woman beneath her choke and fight feebly for air. "-speak to him that way." she continued with flared nostrils and spit landing on her victim's face, digging her nails into the soft flesh of Arlene's throat for added pain.

Someone nearby muttering something about calling the police snapped Mac into action. Hauling Kristy off him mom was no problem, but getting her to let go was a battle.

As soon as she felt herself being lifted up she released the windpipe in exchange for two fists full of straw colored locks. She jerked her arms as Mac continued to drag her away, laughing maniacally when an agonized shriek ripped through the air and she held up clumps of golden hair.

Walter could hear the catfight happening in his bar but he didn't have the cojones to even step outside and enjoy it. Judging by the pained screech and then the deranged laughter that was making its way closer to his office door, he figured Arlene would he hightailing it out of town.

His enjoyment at that thought was short lived as Mac busted through the door, walking backwards while towing a psychotic Krystal. He was having a hell of a time dragging her inside the office, adrenaline and rage making her grasp on either side of the doorframe vice-like as she continued to scream obscenities at the target of her rampage.

Mac resorted to smashing her already bloody knuckles with his fist, hurling her inside the room as soon as her grip wavered. With his back pressed against the hastily closed door he let an exhausted huff as he watched her advance on his father next.

"You motherfucker." she started, throwing a clump of blond hair that was still entangled around her fingers at him. "You knew who that bitch was and you didn't tell me. You made me fucking serve her you piece of shit!"

A lamp from Devon's desk smashed across Walter's sending glass and ceramic shards flying at him as Mac bulldozed her towards the supply closet, the only other option of containing her. Slamming the door shut he encased them in darkness.

He was sure if he didn't have his arms around her like a straight jacket she'd be beating the shit out of a shelf of cans, damaging her hands further.

He didn't say a word, just held her still as she let out a few more hoarse screams in frustration. When her ragged breathing finally calmed and she was only shaking a little he chanced uncurling one arm to reach for the cord dangling above their heads. The overhead bulb illuminated a train wreck.

Her perfectly curled hair was ratty and wild, cheek gashed and bleeding, most likely from a ring Arlene was wearing. Thankfully most of the blood on her uniform was from his mother's face. And while he'd seen her cry once before, he was shocked to find nearly dried black trails had ran down her face during her hysterics. She looked up at him with wide apologetic eyes for all the trouble she'd caused him before she buried her face in his grease covered jumpsuit, clutching at the soiled material with her fist for stability.

The tables had turned for once with Mac acting the part of responsible big brother and her the unruly younger sibling, taking on his usual role. Instead of jumping at the opportunity to tell her how irresponsible it'd been to start a bar fight in the middle of the afternoon in front of all those customers he chose to hold her tighter, stroking her hair as his fingers awkwardly caught in knots here and there.

Mac thought about the drugged up mushy ramblings and heartfelt declarations she'd spouted months ago about protecting him, even from his own family. He never really thought she'd been serious about it, until she proved it today. It was ridiculous notion to him but at the same time it wasn't, that for the first time in his life he felt genuinely safe with this vicious little woman by his side. Having someone who is willing to fight for you with everything they have is a priceless reassurance.

"Wuts with ya tryin'a make me a orphan today?" he half joked once her body stopped its angry trembling.

She sucked in a long shaky breath and let it out slowly before answering him, trying to keep calm and get an actual thought into her head.

"I just…lost it.. you know?" she murmured from her place against his chest, ear pressed to the organ his mother had once tried to stop with a knife.

He let out a chuckle, knowing exactly what she meant. Many of the bodies they'd destroyed had been created due to him 'losing it'.

"You okay?" she asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

She couldn't imagine what seeing Arlene was doing to him emotionally on top of having to deal with his woman trying to murder his mother. He only shrugged but after a few more moments of calmed silence Mac figured she was composed enough to hear what he was about to say.

"Look I know ya want er dead b'cause a what she did ta me, an I hater er fer it too… but she's still ma mom..kinda. I jus want er gone, not dead." he finally managed to get out, struggling with how to word it.

When Kristy's head snapped up he expected her to go crazy again. But he was pleasantly surprised when her hands came up to cup his face, her lips touching his softly.

"I could never be so forgiving to someone who'd wronged me like that. I had the chance to do so a long time ago and I chose wrong." she confessed softly.

"You're a much better person than I am Mac." she praised him sadly, running her thumbs along his jaw line before letting her hands drop from his face.

He knew she was talking about her own mother but he highly disagreed with her last statement. He wasn't asking her to spare his mother's life out of forgiveness but weakness. What he saw as strength in her decision to let her mother die she saw as shameful. He wished he had the will to do what she'd done himself. Instead of adhering to the same spinelessness that'd kept him under Walter's control. A weakness for people that weren't his true family at all.

Her palms running over his chest brought him out of his thoughts, back into the storage closet. When she reached for the doorknob his hand caught hers gently, being mindful of its injured state.

"I'm good. I'll keep it together, I promise." she assured him when he looked down at her uncertainly.

"I'm serious. I just want to go out there and pack up your lunch so we can go home." she insisted, keeping her breathing even and her stance relaxed to help convince him.

Mac figured letting her near Walter first would be a good preliminary trial. He turned the knob slowly, releasing the door to let it swing outwards revealing his father across the room bent over with a dust pan in hand.

"Walter you're an asshole. And as long as  _she_  is in town you're short a waitress." she informed him as she donned her coat and slung her purse over her shoulder.

With his father still in one piece he felt a bit more confident about her going out into the dining area. Until they spotted his mother sitting at the bar nursing a drink with a bag of ice pressed to her face thanks to Devon.

"You know what, I want you to go out the back door and wait in the car while I pack it up." she ordered in an authoritative tone, turning on her heel in the office doorway to face him.

"Jus ferget it, I can eat at-" he began, foreseeing another brawl if he wasn't present to stop it.

"Shush I know how much you like the chicken noodle soup from here." she cut him off, taking note of the way he kept his eyes averted from where his mother was seated. "I don't want you subjected to her again. Just go, I'll behave."

"Know ya will, since ya  _promised_." he pointed out, something he'd been anal about since she'd broken her promise not to leave him that horrible night by the fire. "But I don think she'll b'have."

"I won't give in if she tries to bait me. Mac just go get the car and pull it up front." she groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache coming on.

"Can I stay home from work if I do?" he negotiated, willing to risk them getting into it again if he got to play hooky once more.

"Yes." she snapped, pressing her lips into a thin line.

He looked overjoyed, like a little boy getting to stay home sick from school when he really wasn't. Speaking of school.

"But you're going to study, not fuck around." she added, calling out after his back as he retreated out the rear door.

"You're on your own unless Walter comes out of hiding." she informed Devon as she passed him up.

After she retrieved the appropriate containers for Mac's forgotten lunch she made her way to his plate. Which happened to be right next to Arlene's seat. There was a staring contest that ended with the older woman averting her eyes down to her drink before Krystal started pouring. Kristy had just finished snapping the lid closed on Mac's soup when his mother began to say something.

"I know only a fraction of the damage you've caused him by your own hand, let alone the secondhand effects you're responsible for from abandoning him with Walter." Kristy cut her off, using the styrofoam box in her hand to punctuate her words.

"You've been touched by the angel that is your son today and you'd best pray he doesn't share anymore of the harm you've done him with me or else I may not be able to restrain myself for his sake in the future." she growled out through her clenched teeth.

"You are  _just_ like your mama girlie." Arlene hissed out with a bloody smirk as she watched the girl pack away a turkey sandwich.

The foam box cracked in her hands at the woman's insult. Her breathing hitched and her murderous glare told Arlene she'd hit a rare nerve.

Krystal was shaking with the effort she was putting into restraining her violent urges. She would have surely broken her promise if not for the horn blaring outside the Mesa's front porch.

"Then you know  _just_  how fucked in the head I am. You need to leave Cainville while you still can." she threatened in a low rumble, snatching her containers from the bar.


	9. Captive Cuddles

 

 

 

 

"S' broken goddamnit." Mac insisted, turning Krystal's still steadily swelling right hand to inspect it further.

"No it's not." she argued, wincing when he forcefully moved her fingers around.  _'I fucking hate it when he's right'_

"An how do ya know that? Ya got fuckin' x-ray vision?" he sassed, holding fast to the ends of her fingers while he poured rubbing alcohol over her shredded knuckles.

"Fuck you!" she screeched, the burning sting making her voice raise a couple octaves. "I just know shit, okay?" she added once she dislodged her teeth from her bottom lip.

"Prove it aint broke then, move it on yer own." he demanded, releasing her hand to sit back and cross his arms confidently.

She wiggled her swollen digits reluctantly, gritting her teeth when pain shot through her hand. A piece of bone protruded unnaturally beneath the skin. Which made Mac raise his smartass eyebrows in a smug fashion and flatten his already thin lips into an almost invisible 'I told you so' line.

"Yer goin' ta tha-." he started in an end of discussion manner.

"Rule number three, No hospitals unless you're dying." she interjected stubbornly, sticking her know-it-all nose in the air.

"Them rules don' apply, ya aint a criminal mastermind no more, jus a uppity waitress." Mac snapped, unrolling gauze to lightly wrap around her still bleeding flesh.

Kristy froze mid-childish remark, mouth hanging open for a second before she snapped it shut. He was right. She didn't have to adhere to the guidelines and regulations she'd abided by for almost as long as she could remember. She was free to be a regular person for once. But that still didn't help the fact that she hated hospitals and didn't want to go.

"Go get me two socks and some duct tape, I can make a splint on my own just fine." she offered, hoping he'd say 'fuck it' and just let her do it her way.

"Wut ya need a splint fer? Sumthin' broken?" he sarcastically asked before continuing to fight her. "Nuh-uh them bones heal tha wrong way an yer hand's gonna be all jacked up."

"Nice to see you got to the skeletal section of the anatomy book." she scowled, getting up to pop his food in the microwave one handedly.

"If eat your lunch, bring a text book so I can quiz you on the drive there, and a stack of practice tests for the waiting room. Then I'll go to the hospital." she bargained, fully intending on making him suffer along with her.

Mac remained stony and silent, glaring at the first-aid box in the middle of the table. After all the shit he'd already dealt with today he didn't want to sit in a waiting area filled with sick and injured people. With homework to occupy his time no less.

After setting his food in front of him Kristy sat at the opposite end of the table, watching with a tight self-satisfied smile until he relented and started eating.

Forty-five minutes later they were seated in a corner of the Freemont county hospital's waiting room. Kristy using a magazine in her good hand to shield herself from the microscopic germ infested air around them, Mac looking up from his practice tests every once in a while to watch her with amusement.

After another thirty minutes and a hundred coughs in her direction later she threw the feeble mask aside, plucking up a pamphlet profiling the hospital's doctors to read instead.

"Krystal Bradley." called a nurse from a door next to the reception desk, a definite relief.

Mac almost lost his papers everywhere when she snagged a hold of his shirt and hauled him right along with her to the exam room the nurse presented them with.

"Remove your shoes and follow me please, we need to get your height and weight." the perky medical assistant instructed, smiling brightly at her.

Kicking off her work heels with resounding thuds against the wall that made the little ray of medical sunshine jump, Krystal followed her out into the hall. And when she turned around with her back pressed against the tape measure along wall she was unhappy to see Mac had followed as well.

As she ascended the scale and the nurse began moving weights at the top to balance out her cheeks reddened a little. What woman wants her man knowing how much she weighs? When finally the scales stopped teetering Mac just happened to let out an unrelated throat clear, getting an icy glare from Kristy as she whipped around to face him.

"Shut up, winter is coming." she grumbled, pushing past him to return the their room.

"Ya think I give a shit, jus means a bigger ass fer me ta play with." he snickered with a swat at her behind before the nurse joined them in the exam room once more to ask a plethora of questions and perform the standard tests.

"Blood pressure is a little high." she noted, prompting Krystal to look pointedly at Mac as the cuff was taken off and her arm began regaining feeling.

"I just need you to sign this form stating you aren't pregnant and then we can get some x-rays." miss nurse announced, extending a clipboard Kristy's way.

A second before she reached out to accept it Krystal caught the expression on Mac's face. One of a man floating in a daydream, a fantasy that would never solidify into reality. Relief and slight disappointment colored his face next as she snatched the board, his expression becoming blank once he realized she was watching him.

"The doctor will be in shortly." the nurse assured them after a quick trip to the x-ray room.

"What was that." she demanded as soon as they were alone.

"Wut?" he bluffed, immediately looking down at the papers in his lap.

"Don't what me. You know exactly what. You were hoping I couldn't sign the form." she heatedly whispered as though she was afraid Mr. Stork would overhear and drop an infant into her lap.

"Was not." he argued, pretending to work out a math problem on a sheet of scratch paper in hopes that she would let the subject drop.

"You were too, chicken shit." she hissed, snatching the scribbled on paper with her good hand.

"So what if I was." he snapped, finally looking up at her.

"We're not fit to be parents Mac, you know that, look at our own." she insisted after getting over the momentary shock of what he'd just admitted.

"Don' mean we'll be like 'em." he shot back, ready to fight with her just for the fuck of it.

"What is this, early male menopause? You don't actually want a child, you're just looking to pick a fight because you're upset. There will be no knocking up of this vagina." she announced, pointing to the crotch of her leggings.

"If I wanted a baby I'd tie yer ass up an impregnate ya, ya really think ya got a choice?" he screamed, no doubt startling staff and patients out in the hallway.

"Yeah Mac, I thought we were past all that bullshit." she answered quietly, shaking her head slightly at him and partly at the tingling that happened at his mention of restraints and penetration.

"And if you don't remember correctly the last time you tried that shit and I was sober you got knocked the fuck out." she reminded him a little louder, staring him down until he looked away.

They sat silently for a little while on opposite sides of the room, her on the exam table, him in the guest chair with his feet propped up on the doctor's stool.

"Maybe…if you're still on about this in a couple years…just maybe, okay?" she growled out quietly, confident this was just a way for him to vent his emotions at the moment.

Mac only grunted in answer, stunned that she even offered him that. He knew she hated children in general, as did he. He had absolutely no intention of having one of their own any time soon but the knowledge that she'd be willing to have one just because he wanted it was just one more example of the extent she was willing to sacrifice for his sake.

Of course the doctor wasn't in shortly. As is the standard for any medical professional. Kristy had almost finished grading Mac's third practice test when a knock sounded on their door. The prospects of him passing the ever encroaching final hurtle were looking bleak which was why she had a particularly worried expression on her face when the doctor entered.

"Oh don't fret my dear it's nothing serious. We'll just set the bones back into place, get you fitted in a splint, and have you on your way." the kindly old gentleman told her as he looked up from her chart.

"Now I am a bit confused." he began, clipping one of her x-rays up to a lighted screen. "What I overheard out in the hall would suggest spousal abuse but I note no bruises on our young man here to explain your broken hand and I see no ring on his fingers to produce that nasty gash." he deduced, rising his gray brows at her.

"To put it simply I met my mother in-law for the first time today." she muttered, studying the illuminated breaks.

She'd began to attempt correcting the bones herself before the Doctor caught her hand in his, her growl at the pain alerting him and making Mac jump from his seat.

"I see you are quick to learn Miss Bradley but let's leave this to the professionals, hm?" he reprimanded, pointedly looking at her over the top of his spectacles.

"Would you like a local anesthetic to numb the area?" he offered, taking hold of her injured limb.

"A masochist we have here." he joked when she declined with a shake of her head.

"One, two, and.." he counted before a snap was heard and she let out a strangled noise.

Mac was already by her side, earlier petty argument completely forgotten. As the doctor set the second bone with a snap she blindly grabbed for his hand, breathing deeply as she laced her fingers through his. The humorous thought that this was the first time they'd ever held hands passed through her mind before the final bone was jolted into place, making her squeeze Mac's hand tightly the way most girls would their first time getting a tattoo.

"So how long am I going to be trapped in this?" she inquired, eyeing the stiff contraption the doctor was hobbling towards her with.

"Oh about three weeks I'd say." he replied as though it were nothing at all while he fit her arm into the splint.

Mac could practically feel her irritation travel along her good arm and through their still entwined hands into his body when she learned how long she would be incapacitated.

"I'm going to prescribe some pain medication just in case it becomes too much to bear." the old man added with a pat to her shoulder. "In the meantime no more fights young lady, in-law or otherwise."

Mac gave a small laugh at the grumbled response she gave under her breath about not making any promises as they exited the exam room.

With a slip of paper prescribing her some wicked pain meds stashed away in her purse, Mac was bugging like she was a pez-pill dispenser.

"You can't have any until we get home. Come to think of it you shouldn't have any period, you have to drive to class tonight." she nagged, watching through the drive-thru window as a pharmacist counted out the pills.

"Meds'll wear off by then." he assured her, accepting the clipboard she needed to sign in order for the feel-good candy to be released.

When they finally passed the Luna Messa she gave up the goods, watching as he ripped open the bag and retrieved the bottle while driving one-handedly.

"Just one or two, I don't need you all-" she began as he put the car in park next to his deceased truck. "God damn it Mac!" she screeched when he shoved a small handful of Vicodin in his mouth, chewing them like they didn't taste of bitter chemicals.

He gave her a white chalk and saliva mixture filled grin before pocketing the bottle and getting out. She sat there a few seconds just plain defeated, tired of fighting to keep him in line.

' _It's no wonder Walter gave him up to me without any fuss.'_ she thought before her door opened and her eyebrows rose in surprise, the gesture reminding her of how sweet he could be when medicated.

Krystal already knew what would come next. A traumatic family experience plus drugs equaled rough 'bury my fucked up emotions in your pussy so I don't have to deal with them' sex.

She was struggling to get her uniform shirt off when she heard him enter the bedroom, felt his body heat against her back before he generously assisted in removing her clothes.

When the bloodstained material was flung to the side he kissed her shoulder gently. Brining a hand up to stroke the side of her neck before he unhooked her bra and let it slide down her arms, picking it off when the strap caught on the cuff of her splint.

Kristy titled her head back to rest on his shoulder when his hands snaked around to cup her breasts. His calloused fingers rolling her sensitive tips until she'd had enough of the delicious torture and pulled away from him.

Mac watched as she stumbled half out of her leggings, deciding to throw her onto the bed before she knocked herself out. Yanking the clingy material down her body he started on his own work clothes next, shedding them in record time.

He looked down at her with a dopey grin, the drugs finally kicking in as he crawled onto the bed, settling his shoulders against the back of her thighs as he threw her legs over them roughly, his mouth dropping to her slightly wet slit.

She hadn't expected this. Sure, he went down whenever she asked and quite a few times when she didn't. But it wasn't normal for him to be so considerate when it came to comfort sex. Rather than ask what was up she simply laid back and enjoyed.

Some time later his movements were getting sloppy, he was practically drooling all over her already saturated flesh and she half worried he was going to drown in her snatch.

"I don't have to cum every time, sometimes I like just getting fucked." she told him, craning her head to look down where he was nuzzling her vagina with his face in a daze.

Her words must have registered in his mind because he came crawling up her body, sinking his cock inside her gripping, slippery, opening slowly before he bottomed out, his balls resting against her ass, the rest of his body following suit.

"Wud ya..jus…hold meh." he half mumbled half slurred out, resting his head in the space between her breasts, really giving her no choice.

Kristy was surprised he could even maintain a hardon with how relaxed the rest of his body was. With a small half smile she rested her bum arm along his shoulder, his arms having slid underneath her back to hold her as if she were his teddy bear or safety blanket.

She stroked his head and back with the other, running her nails along his skin lightly every now and then to make him shiver.

"Mac get the blanket." she ordered when his body heat failed to keep her from letting out a shiver of her own in the chilly afternoon air.

' _I need to get on him about fixing that damn heater.'_  she thought, adding it to her ever present mental to-do list as Mac twisted around to drag the comforter upwards, her insides giving a twitching squeeze at his movements.

As Mac resumed his earlier position and drug the blanket over them she settled in, getting used to breathing through his added weight while she continued petting him.

In the first month after her return from insanity she'd been forced to adjust to sleeping in this position. The only one Mac would allow out of fear that she'd disappear on him in the middle of the night. It'd been near unbearable the first few evenings, her thighs cramping from being held wide open so long, hyperventilation kicking in until she steadied her labored breathing, back aching until he mercifully shifted positions in his unconscious state. Once her body adjusted to what she called 'captive cuddling' it was easy to fall asleep with him crushing her for his own psychological comfort.

Kristy knew if he was reverting to this instead of sex he'd been effected by Arlene a great deal more than he'd let show. When her palm ran over the raised lines on his back a thought came to her. One that seemed so logical she felt incredibly stupid for never thinking of it before.

With a plan forming in her head and a worry over his reaction on her mind she filed it away, more and more details getting added to this notion. Along with a small puddle of drool that was beginning to grow on her chest under Mac's face.


	10. Breakfast in Bed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You know I'll be proud of you either way right?" she asked, shuffling her feet back and fourth as she took a heady drag off her cigarette.

Mac nodded silently, oddly calm while she was a bundle of anxious, optimistic, energy. Krystal was a nervous mess, the night she'd been dreading had finally arrived. She didn't want to see the crushing look of disappointment on his face if he didn't pass. What it would do to his self confidence. How discouraged he would be to try again if he failed.

The fact that they'd missed class the night before last was weighing heavy on her conscience as well. But of course Mac had gotten his spoiled little way. Not that she'd been conscious to fight him on the subject anyway, the lack of sleep had finally caught up with her, making her sleep through the night with her Mac-blanket nestled atop her.

What she'd woken up to the next morning was downright bizarre. An empty bed and the smell of something burning.

"Ya aint sposta be up." he'd huffed when she entered the freezing kitchen to find smoke billowing out the open windows and a smashed smoke detector scattered in pieces around the floor.

"How can I not be, I thought the house was on fire." she shivered, wrapping her arms around her naked body as she stepped forward to inspect the disaster that covered her stove and counter.

"How 'm I sposta serve ya breakfast in bed if ya aint in bed. Git!" he snapped, shoving her away from the blackened contents of a frying pan that may have once been scrambled eggs.

Kristy went without hesitation, layering on several articles of clothing in hopes of stopping her teeth from chattering before she slipped back underneath the covers. She wasn't going to yell or nag despite the mess that would surely be waiting for her. Cringing when she remembered the sight of a broken egg on the floor and butter smeared on a cabinet. It was the first time he'd gone out of his way to do something nice for her so she knew she would have to grin and bear it as far as the catastrophe he'd turned her kitchen into went.

She pictured his destruction of the beeping smoke unit with a laugh and a small smile. Imagining the panicked look on his face as the shrill noise threatened to wake her and the origin of the smoke burnt further while he smashed the poor detector to bits made her giggle further.

When he entered the bedroom he looked a mess, flour coloring his hair which prompted her to wonder what the hell he was trying to make that involved the white powdery substance. The tray he carried was piled high with black food, the orange juice sloshing over the rim of the glass at his quick nervous movements.

She knew the pain of countless parents who were forced to eat the concoctions of their well meaning children when she saw the look of utter disappointment on his face when he glanced down at the tray's contents.

"Come on hurry up, I didn't eat lunch or dinner yesterday and I'm starving." she insisted when he hesitated half way to the bed, surely wanting to just dump the failure of a breakfast into the trash and bury his head in the sand figuratively.

Kristy kept her composure as he reluctantly placed the tray in her lap and she got a good look at what she was about to force herself to ingest for Mac's sake. The bacon actually didn't look that bad, just extra extra extra crispy. The rest of it made her worry for her digestive system until she spotted a tiny wild flower next to the fork. From then on she didn't give a shit if consuming that much charred food made her sick. It was the sweetest thing he'd ever done.

"Ya don' gotta eat it." he murmured at what he saw as hesitation when she looked her breakfast over, casting his eyes downward in embarrassment.

' _At least I don't have to worry about salmonella poisoning.'_ she thought as she shoveled a large amount of dark brown eggs into her mouth with a smile on her face that didn't waver.

Even when the unmistakable crunch of eggshells was felt as she chewed.

"It's good really good, I ah… I like my toast well done." she lied after she struggled to bite a piece of the rock hard bread off.

Mac gave her a flat look that plainly called bullshit on her white lie.

"Jus stop. Can't cook worth a damn, I know it's fuckin' nasty." he asserted, moving to take the half eaten charcoal away.

"I'll teach you one day." she offered, giving up the ruse and spitting a black mushy bready substance out.

She made sure to snatch the flower up before he removed the mess from her lap.

When he came back she had it against her nose, inhaling the faint sweet scent.

"Thank you for making me breakfast." she cooed, pulling him down into the black crumbs scattered about the bed spread.

"Ya mean tryina-" he began, getting cut off by her lips as she bent down and stopped his self-degrading words.

"Ugh!" he'd gagged, pulling away after sampling the horrible leftover taste on her tongue.

Mac stubbing his cigarette out on the side of the building got her out of her mind and back in the present situation.

"Alright let's do this." she cheered, trying to keep in high spirits as she flicked her butt off into the bushes.

She could practically tasted the charred food as the memory left her and they entered the community center.

Krystal had taken to accompanying Mac to work every day since she'd quit her job at la Mesa. She was one of those people who couldn't stand just doing nothing all day, unless Mac was there doing nothing with her.

She really hadn't given Richie any choice in the matter of hiring her. In just her first day there she'd organized the office, balanced the books, ordered all the supplies they were soon to be out of, and did an oil change without batting an eyelash.

"She know anythin' else 'bout cars?" he asked Mac, trying not to get caught looking at Krystal's ass as she leaned over to pour fresh motor oil in.

"Aint no tellin', seems like she knows jus 'bout everythin'." he muttered, smacking his oily rag into Richie's face when he followed his line of sight.

It was there at the auto shop while playing secretary that she got the results for their final exams. After seeing her own unsurprising 4.0 she typed the password to Mac's email in slowly, almost dreading what she might see.

An ear piercing screech came from the front office, making Mac smack his head on the car hood as he jumped at the sound.

"Krys?….Krystal!" he bellowed, gripping the wrench he'd been using in case she was screaming due to an attacker.

He'd made it half way across the garage with Richie hot on his heels when she burst through the door with a huge smile on her face.

"You did it, you passed!" she yelled as she ran forward, jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist and kiss him, not caring about the grease from his suit sullying her clothes.

Mac barely had a moment to process his accomplishment before she was unwrapping herself from around him, scurrying away with the mention of having something to do before she turned right around and came back again.

"I am so so proud of you Mac." she squealed, kissing him once more and making him beam with pride before she snatched the keys to the Denali and took off.

"Oh shit, she's back." Devon announced, spotting Krystal's suv pulling into the lot.

Walter looked up to see her speed walking towards the door, the unexpected happy expression on her face making him wonder what was up.

"Uh-uh get over here Walter, I need to talk to both of you." she called out when he tired slinking away to the safety of his lockable office door.

They gathered at the end of the bar, watching her expectantly side by side, wondering what the hell could have put her in such a good mood.

"Mac has been taking night classes and he finished high school." she began, seating herself at the bar before she got into what was sure to be the lesser of her two battles. "And the graduation ceremony is on Wednesday at the Freemont county community center."

"So?" Devon asked, puzzled as to why she was telling them this.

"So you're both going to be there to support him. Because you're his family." she scoffed, her tone becoming much darker at their indifference to Mac's success.

"An what makes you think we're going to show up?" Walter replied, raising a bushy gray brow at her.

"Because if you don't then you have to deal with me." she threatened with a low growl, remembering just how little they cared about the man that was the center of her world.

For some reason in the midst of her excitement she'd somehow forgotten about what kind of people they really were.

"Dress clothes. Six p.m. Don't be late and bring Regina too, you know how much she likes to clap at shit." she snapped, staring them down until they both nodded in understanding while mentally steeling herself for what she was about to ask next.

"Is… _she_  still in town?" Kristy inquired, half hoping the answer was no.

"Room four." Walter bit out, walking away to return to his work and leave her to her business.

"I can't fucking believe I'm doing this." she grumbled to herself as she crossed over into the dirt section that had not been paved towards the mostly out of order motel rooms.

Kristy stood in front of the door with a crooked number four nailed next to it, taking a long deep breath before she knocked with her un-injured hand. If she hadn't stuck her foot in the doorway it would have been slammed shut right in her face.

"I just want to talk." she assured the coward behind the door, thankful when the pressure let up on her throbbing foot.

The door opened wide after an uncertain minute, revealing the very fucked up face of Arlene.

' _It was already pretty messed up to begin with.'_ Kristy thought to herself, hesitating for half a second at what she was about to do.

"Your son is graduating high school in two days and you should be there to see it." she blurted out, not sure how else to put it.

"High school? Shouldna his stupid ass done that years ago?" Arlene speculated, her words coming out a little off due to a missing tooth and a most likely dislocated jaw.

The ragged woman flinched when Krystal's useable hand clenched into a fist at the insult to Mac.

"Walter pulled him out of school in his early teens and he never got to finish until now. He worked hard for this and he deserves to have his family there when he walks across that stage." she proclaimed through gritted teeth, fighting to keep her temper in check.

"I don't give a shit, I'm not going." she declared around a hacking cough, attempting to push the door closed on her.

"I'll pay you." Kristy growled, slamming the door back open with one hand and forcing her way into the dingy room, eyeing the needle and spoon lying on a table.

"How much until you act like a proud loving mother?" she snapped when a fifty wasn't enough to even get her to attend.

"Proud and loving will cost you a grand. If you just want me there that'll be two hundred." Arlene delegated, holding out her hand for the cash.

"I'll give you two fifty if you show up on time, sober, looking presentable, and are nice to him." Kristy offered, absolutely hating herself for stooping to bribery.

"Three hundred." she countered as she sat down and proceeded to pull out a crack pipe.

Krystal lost her composure, grabbing the glass bowl and hurling it at the wall full force. The sound of it shattering proved extremely satisfying. Now that she had Arlene's full attention she was ready to continue.

"It's a deal. But if you fall through on any of those term I will bust my other hand on your face, you hear me?" she promised, handing over a fifty dollar bill.

"Do I look like a fucking idiot? You'll get the rest once you show up and play your part." Kristy growled in frustration when the older woman still held out her hand expectantly.

"Great, now kindly get the fuck out." Arlene hissed, pocketing the money before she lit up a cigarette.

"I'm not done yet. I've got one more question and I'm only asking you because you're probably the only person who knows." she theorized, thinking how sad that was and fighting the urge to cut the bitch when she extended her hand for more money.

"What day was Mac born?" she strained, clenching her teeth once more as she slapped a twenty into her open palm.

"You're fucking scum." she bellowed when Arlene waved her hand forward for more money, doing so until she had three more twenties in her palm.

"It's coming up in a few weeks. December twelfth. Or eleventh. No the thirteenth." she finally remembered, stuffing the bills away in her bra.

After leaving directions to the community center Kristy couldn't get away fast enough, the overwhelming urge to slap the shit out of Mac's mother coursing through her in waves. She was in her own thoughts of what she was going to wear and what she was going to dress Mac in when a thud to her right made her jump.

"Jesus Regina." she muttered as she waved back to the girl in the window, thankful for the outside padlock Devon had installed so she didn't have to deal with a little shadow the rest of the day.

* * *

_Dangerous Recipe nostalgia poster_

 


	11. Yes Sir

 

 

 

 

"You were ordered to watch her, not engage in a bar fight!" came a furious growl from the speaker of Arlene's cell phone. "What else do you have to report?" the voice demanded, thick with irritation.

"Well she worked at the bar but quit after alla that. She…" Arlene trailed off, deciding last second to show a shred of motherly love he'd never see and leave her son out of the report.

"Now she works over at a car shop answering phones and shit. She don't go out except to the bar she worked at or to the grocery store once a week. I been following her night and day. Don't seem like she's got anything to do with drugs no more." she continued nervously, scared not having any useful information would soon become the breaking point for her deal with the man on the phone.

"You need to get closer to her, befriend her." the man ordered quietly after taking a moment to think.

"Have ya ever met the bitch!? She's not exactly the friendly type." Arlene scoffed, raking her fingers through her greasy flaxen hair.

"Just do it!" he bellowed over the line. "And do not underestimate her." he added softly as though he were remembering the cost of making that same mistake himself.

"Yes sir." she answered snidely before throwing her phone to the side, making it knock over empty beer cans and baggies as it skid across the surface.

The original plan she'd concocted before she knew who the little cunt was would have to do. Get on her good side through Mac.

Mac. The child she'd never wanted. She had no idea where to begin repairing the damaged relationship she had with her son and never really had any desire to until now. Until it benefited her own personal gain.

When her fingers began to practically twitch and her eyes darted to the overused syringe on the table she let out a strangled noise, forcing herself to head towards the yet to be used shower instead of shooting up. Following the girl's terms for the evening's event would be a start. But as Arlene let scorching water run down her abused body she felt a little anonymous payback was in order.

"Stop being a fucking toddler and sit still!" Krystal growled, squirting Mac in the face with the spray bottle like a misbehaving puppy before spritzing the hair on the left side of his head.

"Well hurry tha fuck up yer takin' ferever!" he bitched, shifting around in the hard wood kitchen chair, trying to keep his ass from going numb again.

"I wouldn't take forever if you would stop moving, do you want it uneven?" she hissed, dragging a comb through his damp dirty blonde strands.

"Didn' want a haircut in tha first fuckin' place goddamnit!" he snarled, grimacing when he heard various snipping sounds here and there.

"When I'm dead and in my grave you can walk around looking like a shaggy beast all you want." she offered, continuing to trim as much as she could before he inevitably repositioned himself again.

Finally making her way to his front Kristy was extremely relieved it was almost over, one of the many tasks to be completed before the graduation ceremony. Stepping between his parted legs she used a firm grasp on his chin to force his face upwards, his crisp blue eyes glaring up at her as she combed his bangs forward. The more strands that covered his face the more his false angry expression gave way to his true nervous one.

"Trust me it's nothing to get stressed out over. You'll do fine. Just walk up there, accept your diploma, shake his hand, and walk back down." she instructed, closing his lids with two fingers before she began to cut.

"How come ya aint gotta go up there?" he grumbled, eyelids fluttering as small pieces of hair fell onto their sensitive surface.

"Beeecause I've already done it once and the gowns are very unflattering on a female figure." she offered, deciding to let the fringe in front of his face go a little long for purely selfish reasons involving how his eyes smoldered when that hair fell in them.

"So?" he practically pouted, going as far as to cross his arms beneath the towels covering him.

"Mac I wouldn't even be near you in line anyways, B comes before G." she sighed, throwing the scissors aside before ripping the towels off to set him free.

After he was done running his hands through to shake off any loose hairs she threw a leg over both of his, seating herself with a strong grip on his shoulders.

"If you trip and fall on your face I'll flash the audience and everyone will forget it ever happened. Like men in black, only with tits." she joked, pleased with herself when a rotten smile cracked through his surly demeanor and his hands settled on her hips.

"I can do that ma self. It don' even need it." he hissed when what he thought would be her grinding on his lap turned into her trimming his facial hair.

"You're starting to look like a billy-goat with that much scruff hanging off your face." she humorously replied, carefully trimming the whispers growing off his chin.

"Holy shit stay still." she inhale-whispered like there was a venomous spider nesting in his goatee.

"What now?" he muttered, attempting to reach for the hand-mirror before she stopped him with a firm smack to his arm.

"I said stay still damn it, I'm going to lose it." she hissed lightly, blindly grabbing on the table for a set of tweezers intended for his eyebrows.

Kristy kept her intense gaze zeroed in on her prey, moving slowly once the thin metal instrument was positioned in her fingers. Mac could feel her separating coarse hairs with her other hand, the one she wasn't supposed to be using. He couldn't understand what the hell was on his face that required this much focus, she looked like one of those female leopards stalking a gazelle before going in for the kill. Of course she had her quirks like the hobby she'd made out of popping his bacne but this was just bizarre. It happened so fast Mac only had time to let out a yell of pain before she'd gotten what she'd been so intently hunting.

"I'm starting to think you're right about being older, way older." she laughed, holding up the wiry gray hair clutched between the metal tong ends.

"Knew I was right ya lil snot but goddamn ya coulda warned me." he grumbled, releasing her left hip to run his fingers over the still stinging spot the hair had been yanked from.

"Oh please you wuss, I rip hair out of my face every day without a sound. Do you really think these beauties just shape themselves?" she rhetorically asked, raising the hair topped facial muscles in discussion.

"F'it hurts that much why ya keep doin' it?" he asked, looking up at her eyebrows for any sign that hair actually grew anywhere other than where it already was.

Said eyebrows flattened into an 'are you serious' line at his question. "Because I doubt you'd find me attractive with the god given caterpillars on my face I was born with or the mustache I wax off every week." she replied flatly, setting the tweezers and her gray prize on the table.

"I'd still fuck ya." he drawled with a leering grin, leaning in to kiss the lips that were stretched in a tight 'yeah right' crooked smile.

"Even if I stopped shaving?" she asked in between kisses, scoffing at his muffled affirmative answer.

"Ya still gonna wanna fuck me when m' old an gray?" he inquired with a tilt of his head when they pulled apart, looking to stall the next thing on their to-do list.

Krystal looked over his face from hairline to freshly trimmed goatee. She didn't know how to answer that. They joked all the time about their future kids, her beating him with her cane if she caught him grabbing nurses asses in their nursing home, and other stuff regular couples took seriously. She couldn't tell if this was a joking matter, his tone walking a thin line between that and serious.

"Yeah. If we make it that far." she told him quietly, deciding to shoot straight with him on the subject instead of jesting that she'd trade him in for a newer model.

"Even when I gotta take a pill ta git it up?" he quipped, grinding a telltale hardness up into the soft flesh seated on his lap, making her exhale with relief.

"Take it easy old man, I don't need you breaking a hip. Is that another gray hair coming in I see?" she teased, wiggling against him a little to make him groan at the friction.

With a deep growl Mac cupped her ass, pressing her harder against himself while standing up, making her feet hook at the small of his back and a startled squeal emit from her.

"M' gonna show ya wut a 'old man' can do." he lewdly promised, ignoring her demands to be put down as he carried her towards the bedroom.

Giving up half way through the house she buried her face in the side of his neck, inhaling the dirt and chemical mixture that never left his skin no matter how hard she scrubbed. _'L'odeur de Mac'_ she thought, happily sniffing him until her splint was bashed into the bedroom doorframe.

"Jesus watch it I'm already damaged goods." she complained, letting out an "Oof" when she was dropped down onto the fluffy surface of their bed comforter.

She watched from her place on the bed as first his shirt and then his pants were shed, anticipating the whiney curse fest that was bound to come when she got him back on track to the tasks at hand.

"Perfect, you're all ready to finally try on those suits so we can figure out what you'll be wearing tonight." she asserted when his thumbs began to hook into the band of his boxer briefs.

The look on his face was one of a child who'd been told he was going to Disney world only to find out he was headed for the dentist.

"I'll take off one piece of clothing for every one you put on." she offered before he could throw a fit.

It only took Mac a moment of weighing the pros and cons of what she would do if he didn't cooperate before he was making his way to her walk-in closet with a slight petulant stomp in his step.

"Black one first." she called out, taking pity on him by selecting the one she thought would look best in an attempt to spare him from trying on the rest.

"Aint no one else gonna be wearin' shit like this ta a goddamn second rate graduation." he sassed from behind the closet door as various bangs and curses were heard in between.

Kristy didn't respond, instead rolling her eyes towards the ceiling and beginning to make good on her side of the bargain, shedding Mac's tee shirt along with her sweats.

"What the hell is taking so long I'm freezing my ass off out here!" she hollered, trying not to let her chattering teeth nip her tongue as she bundled up in a blanket.

Mac didn't answer right away, a growl coming from the closet as he continued to struggle.

"…Don' know how ta tie a fuckin' tie." he finally admitted, stepping out from behind the door with it tangled in a ridiculous ball around the collar of his dress shirt.

He hadn't expected what greeted him when he revealed her first choice of outfit. She looked slightly dazed with her mouth hanging agape, moving only slightly like a fish giving up on its last dying pull for water. Not only was she staring at him in shock, she looked like she was dangerously close to crying, her wide eyes coating with a glassy sheen.

"Wut?" he snapped, shifting uncomfortably as she gawked at him.

Two sides of her were at war. On one side was the vixen who wanted to rip the flattering dress clothes off to have her way with him quite violently. And on the other was the overjoyed mama who wanted to hug him gently and tell him how proud of him she was while thumbing a smudge off his cheek with spit.

"Mac..you look…" she started once she found her voice only to lose it again with a hard swallowed lump of emotion as she rose from the bed and approached him.

"R'dickulous?" he suggested, eyeing her nude body as she walked to him, pleased she'd held up her end.

"Different. Sexy. In a classy way." she replied breathily as she un-jumbled the black silk material before fluidly maneuvering a perfect tie.

As she tightened it and looked over the finished product she knew the vixen had won this round, there would be plenty of time for doting later in public where she could embarrass him.

Though he was a little surprised at her practically drooling over the monkey-suit. He couldn't deny the extra boost of confidence it gave him just short of puffing out his chest, making him flash a smug smirk as he continued soaking it in.

"Git on tha bed." he ordered in a low rumble, sparking her curiosity as she obeyed and he disappeared back into the closet.

When he returned with the gray tie that accompanied her second choice charcoal colored suit the pieces fell into place.

"Seriously?" she giggled as her good wrist was captured by a rough hand, the other injured one being shown more care when it joined its sister stretched high above her head as the gray silk material tightly secured her limbs to an iron rod of her headboard.

"Yer tha one who made me read that fifty shades a bullshit." he retorted, tying another knot for extra security just in case she got squirmy and the splint allowed her to get loose.

"You're such a dork." she snickered, stopping dead mid-chuckle when she caught the deadly serious look in his eye.

"Ya don' talk less I say." he hissed, smacking her exposed mound, making her jump and suck in an excited breath of air. "Understand?"

"Yes sir."


	12. Surprise! Part 1

 

 

 

 

' _Just breathe and play along. It's not like you don't dominate every aspect of his life right down to what he wears. Just let him have this.'_   Krystal told herself, letting out a long deep breath as she fought the urge to turn her head and look where Mac was seated in the corner.

It was all about power, control. After a lifetime of always needing to be in control he'd never known how good it could feel to give it up until she came along. How good it could feel to let someone else take the reins, to relinquish all responsibility and let another person take care of it all. She was always in control. And he figured it was about time for him to take it back, relieve her of it if only for an hour or so.

Mac raised the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply as he watched her struggle with the role reversal. She was adhering to one part of his orders but not the other. She was to stay still, not move, and relax.  _'She's a natural tight ass, aint no wonder why she wont let me near it.'_

He figured he should be thanking his lucky stars she'd allowed this considering her history with restraints prior to him. He was nervous about that, afraid of taking it too far. And he was alarmed that he cared, surprised after all he'd already done to her in their early days. Yet still excited, his heart pounding away at having free reign over her body.

Finally she broke the other half of his command and turned her head, taking in the view of him sitting there, blue demon eyes devouring her as he sat there smoking. When their eyes met he stubbed the cigarettes out half-assed, leaving it smoldering in the tray as he rose from his seat.

He'd removed the jacket and the coal colored dress shirt's sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong forearms while giving him an air of authority. Like he had something important to get done and knew how to do it expertly. And he did. Oh how he did.

If her art form was cooking meth, Mac's was sex.

He relished the way her body began to tremble slightly as he approached, putting extra swagger into his step as he leisurely made his way to the bed while she watched.

' _He looks so confident, fucking cocky bastard is loving this.'_ she mentally growled, keeping up the silence he'd demanded.

She didn't get what she expected. Instead of getting smacked for moving she got nothing, absolutely nothing. And that was much worse she realized when she felt her nipples hardening due to the nonexistent caress they got from his eyes. She wasn't so inclined to play along with this anymore, she had a cake to bake and an inpatient need to be fucked.

' _Let him do what he wants. It's his day. He worked hard.'_ she reminded herself as she let her eyes drift to the straining outline in his dress slacks.

"Take the pants off before you soak through your boxers and stain them." she dictated without thinking, referring the copious amount of pre-cum he produced when aroused and left unattended.

A smack sounded through the bedroom before the same hand circled her neck, holding and claiming but not squeezing, yet.

"Say it right." he murmured quietly as he leaned forward, his tie grazing one of her sensitive buds, his hand applying pressure when she shivered and rolled her eyes.

….. "Sir..will you take off your pants so I don't have to spot-wash cum off them on top of everything else I need to do before the ceremony tonight?" she rasped out, pressing her thighs together in frustration at the sensations his dominating hand and the cool material created.

When the pressure on her throat increased she added a croaked out "Please?".

"No, I won't." he replied evenly, pressing even harder when she glared at him, releasing only when her expression became passive again.

His fingers glided up to her reddened cheek, sweeping lightly over the reddened area. "Act right less ya want more a that."

After she nodded in understanding he sat on the edge of the bed, letting his eyes and then hand wander her body. His touch was so light it was hard to discern if it was really there, if he was really finally touching her.

"Wancha ta wear that lil black dress tonight. Ya know which one 'm talkin' bout?" he inquired, giving her a meaningful look.

Krystal nodded again, she knew exactly which one he wanted. He was fixated on that dress, oddly sentimental over it and she couldn't understand why. They'd met face to face for the first time that night while she was wearing it but in her opinion it was still just expensive fabric. But she didn't have much time for an opinion once he started his slow chaste torture again.

She wasn't used to shit like this, Mac never waited, never hesitated, never drew it all out like this. Sure, maybe he teased and tormented when he was going down or fingering her, but never like this. It didn't help that he was purposely avoiding the most sensitive areas, containing his caresses to more neutral, unappreciated, places.

An authoritative eyebrow lifted when a quiet whine left her in retaliation to his fingertips creeping torturously close to one of the peaks begging to be touched. Her back arching a bit, trying to get his skin to accidentally brush against it.

"Tell me whatcha want." he demanded in a much deeper and effected tone, keeping his fingers circling the base of her breast.

He wasn't going to punish her for the sound since he enjoyed it.

"I want you to fuck me and make me cum…..and fill me up with your cum…please..Sir." she admitted with a pleading expression, feeling a little embarrassed at the last request.

Kristy's breathing hitched when he rewarded her with his palm sliding over her greedy nerve endings, his hand lingering to grope one of his favorite toys while he grinned down at her smugly.

"I re'member ya bitchin' like hell tha first time I did that." he began, closing his eyes for a second as he remembered that wonderful violent night. "Ya like it when I dump ma load in ya?" he asked, moving his attention to her neglected right breast.

She looked at him when she nodded her head, almost ashamed. Her dark eyes gazing up at him with a gleam of innocence that made his self control waver. He was hard pressed not to just bury himself inside her then and there.

"Tell me why." he coaxed, tweaking her nipple when she turned her head to the side and ignored his question.

She let out a small gasp at the pained pleasure he was bribing her with for an answer, eyes flickering to his face and then away while she thought about it.

"I like-"

"Looket me while ya tell me." he reprimanded her, adding a smack to her buoyant flesh, watching as it bounced right back into place on top of her ribcage.

Kristy obeyed, turning her head to look at him with slightly hooded eyes, tongue flicking out over her bottom lip before she began.

"I like feeling your dick twitch inside me. I can feel it hitting my cervix when your cum squirts out. Something about it makes me feel good, complete, it just feels right…" she explained, her throaty voice and choice of words making him jerk in his pants while he tried to imagine what she felt. "…it fills me and satisfies me in a way you can't really understand because you're a man."

"And it reminds me who I belong to…Sir" she added, knowing that part of her answer would please him most.

Mac looked a little dazed when she finished, quickly blinking to snap himself out of it when he realized she was finished speaking and he was left there slightly in awe. While he enjoyed pulling out to jizz all over her and mark his territory once in a while, he knew he'd never waste a single drop outside her body again after hearing her explanation.

With the way her words had him fighting to control his breathing along with the rest of his body he felt he needed to put himself back in the dominant position. Even though she was bound she'd managed to get him under her power just like that. And it was time for him to change it.

Kristy's eyebrows knitted together in confusion when he abruptly stood and left the bedroom without a word, leaving her to wonder what the hell he was doing just leaving like that while they were in the middle of something so intense.

Her eyes bulged wide when he returned with something pink and sparkly in his hand. Something pink and sparkly he was never  _ever_  supposed to find.

' _I am SO fucked.'_

"Look Mac, it..I..it's just for when I want to get off quick and you're passed out drunk I-" she tried to explain, her words getting cut off by hard plastic and the taste of her own dried cum clinging to the shaft as it was forced down her throat.

He never questioned the packages that showed up from her ordering stuff online all the time, usually it was just weapons and clothes. In general they gave each other space when it came to online privacy, or if they didn't they never said anything about it. Not that he was ashamed of the BBW porn sites that riddled his user history if she were to look.

But he was surprised to find the sleek bullet shaped vibrator in a an unmarked package he'd opened on a whim. Finding the little fucker after she'd hidden it had been almost as big a pain in the ass as making the box look unopened. But it was worth it to see the look on her face when he came back with her secret toy in hand.

Even though he was forcing her to choke on it he wasn't angry, just faking it to get her back in her place.

"Yer gonna shut tha fuck up an then we're gonna try sum new things. Ya got it?" he asked in a snarl, dislodging the phallus from her throat so she could respond with a weak "Yes Sir.".

Her face wasn't just red from gagging on the vibrator as he disappeared from the room again, leaving the pink thing to sit on her chest and shame her further. She knew she should be pissed at him for going through her things but she didn't really care what he needed to do in order to soothe his insecurities. Which was probably why she hadn't ordered one in the shape of a penis in the first place.

"Got some goodies a ma own online." he chuckled when he returned with a ball-gag and a bottle of lube.

"Mac don't you fucking dare, your dick is too big!" she screeched, completely dropping the submissive role when she spotted the bottle.

Her screams echoed off the walls until he finally managed to get the gag in place, almost getting bitten twice before she was vocally and orally restrained.

"Had ta get a extra large one fer yer big ass mouth." he joked, his slight smile dropping when he saw just how panicked and watery her eyes were.

With a deep sigh he resumed his seat next to her, pushing the toy off her chest and onto the bed, setting the bottle beside it. Morals he'd never had before were rearing their heads.

"Ya made it pretty clear ya don' want me fuckin' yer ass. Do ya trust me?" he questioned, sure she would have never let him tie her up if she didn't.

Kristy's frantic eyes studied his face, flickering this way and that as she thought, nostrils flaring as she breathed through the ebbing panic. After a moment she nodded while looking him straight in the eyes, deciding to show a little faith in him.

"Alright, then fuckin' trust me." he assured her, smile returning to his face as he batted her tits around like a cat with a ball of string before reaching over to grab the necessities.

She closed her eyes, steadying her breathing into a long balanced pattern in an attempt to keep calm while she heard material rustling and then a light buzzing noise begin. Her whole body jumped when the vibrations met her clit without warning, making a muffled squeak come from behind the red ball.

"Nod yer head when I get it right." he told her, glancing up from time to time to check.

Sometimes it wasn't hard enough, sometimes too intense in certain spots. He kept trying, pleased when he got a ragged moan and her head bobbing wildly at his circling technique with medium pressure. When he could see her eyes rolling back in her head he knew it was time to start his little plan.

Opening a bottle of lubricant single-handedly and squirting it into that same hand proved to be near impossible so he was sure to get bitched at later over the glob he squeezed out on the bed.

Kristy was in heaven, she never thought he'd be okay with her having a toy, let alone be comfortable and not threatened enough by it to use it on her in bed. She wasn't alarmed when she felt the lube being smeared on her anus, but the temperature made her jerk away from the finger spreading it.

"Oold." she attempted to tell him when he looked at her questioningly before laying her head back to try and relax in preparation for what was coming next, trying to focus on the amazing feeling buzzing through her thanks to what was occupying his other hand.

Mac kept his eyes on her face while he pressed his coated pointer finger against her rear entrance, relieved when she only winced slightly as he slowly pushed it past her resistant muscles. Since she made no distressed noise of protest he continued, pushing further until he ran out of finger.

"Ya alright?" he inquired, keeping his appendage still so she could adjust to the alien sensation.

When she nodded and he felt a squeezing spasm contract her muscles around it he began carefully pulling out and pushing back in by tiny increments, moving in larger strokes when she didn't fuss. In truth, while anal sex afforded him a tighter hole to fuck he wasn't obsessing over it for that reason. Her ass was untouched just like her mouth and he was eager to claim it. If she hated it after the first time he doubted he'd ask for it again.

It felt like she had to shit. After the initial pain took a back burner that's just about all it felt like. But she knew his finger was a far cry from his dick, there was just no way she could see it happening. In fact as soon as Mac tried to ease a second finger inside she was growling "No!" around the gag and glaring at him in warning.

One he heeded, instead keeping up with the vibrator, using it to calm her down and get her clenching around him again. As far as he saw it, getting one in was a major accomplishment in itself with her attitude towards the act.

Another couple minutes passed with her muffled moans and groans getting louder until Mac knew she was about to explode. The moment he knew she was starting to cum he pushed his middle finger inside quickly, slowing its progression once it'd passed her protesting ring of muscle. He timed it expertly, the searing pain getting overshadowed as she came hard.

Once her contractions winded down he dared look up at her, not surprised to see the pissed off look on her face.

"Got 'nother surprise fer ya." he told her with a putrid grin, bringing the toy away from her throbbing clit, hoping that if he could pull this magic trick off he'd be forgiven for the additional unwelcome finger.

He took a second to feel his other two fingers through the thin membrane wall separating them, getting growled at when he moved the other two as well. Obviously she wasn't ready for two to move at once.

"Fuckin' soaked." he muttered, moving his middle finger past the little raspberry patch that made her squirt, going deeper, searching for the right spot.

He was getting a little discouraged after a few minutes. Along with the instructions he'd read online he'd learnt that not all females were equipped with the special little deep spot he was searching for. Just when he was about to give up and go for the G she jerked hard, a high pitched sound coming from her and all three fingers lodged inside her orifices getting squeezed.

' _Fuck yeeaaah, who's tha man!'_ he congratulated himself internally, grinning like a madman as he continued to tap on the spot, applying more and more pressure as she writhed on the bed.

Before he got her going a second time she was about ready to kill him after what he'd pulled. But now she couldn't care less as he pulled some 'mystical new place of pleasure inside her body' bullshit. It was indescribable and when he added his mouth to her protruding hooded bud she bit into the rubber stuffing her mouth, cumming wildly while he retracted his fingers from her ass. It was similar to the feeling she got when he was abusing the patch closer to the entrance of her pussy, only deeper and much longer lasting. Pure fucking bliss.

Mac knew he was in the clear as far as drawing blood went but he was sure she was going to curse him out left and right once the gag was gone. She wasn't even really that coherent as she felt his mouth and finger leave her, swimming in an ecstasy soup of endorphins while she faintly heard running water coming from the bathroom.

When he came back Mac was naked and actually looking a little sheepish, coming forward to unclasp the strap and pop the gag from her mouth. She worked her jaw back and fourth before looking up at him with a scowl and pursed lips. Kristy could only hold it for a second before it melted into a relaxed dopey grin.

Mac thanked a god he didn't believe in before leaning down to kiss her, enjoying the wrestling of their tongues before he let out a yip and pulled back, wiping at his tongue to check for blood.

"Don't you dare pull that shit again…Sir." she hissed with a mocking tone at the end, happy when he nodded but continued to play along, lightly slapping her in the face for speaking.

He didn't waste any time in getting himself balls deep inside her, pleased to put all the copious amount of wetness he'd created to good use. With her fully satisfied he had no reason to hold out, quickly kicking into the jackhammer rhythm that always made him cum fast. He was almost there when he heard her break the submissive protocol.

"Mac?"

He paused to lift his head from the crook of her neck where he loved to bury it when he was close, looking up to see what she wanted.

"Please let me touch you." she begged, her features pleading just as much as her tone while she motioned with her chin towards her hands.

Without hesitation he reached forward to untie the knots, making her let out a soft wheeze since his hands were too occupied to keep his weight off her. Kristy's injured hand was freed first, the good one following soon after.

Mac knew the backhanded smack was coming before she even reared her arm and he knew he deserved it. But the vicious kiss that came afterward was unexpected. There was barely a second for the sting to set in before she was grabbing a fistful of his freshly cut hair and forcing his face to hers. Nipping at his lips, running her tongue along his decaying teeth, welcoming his into her own mouth. Heels dug into his ass hard enough to bruise like he was a prize stallion at the Kentucky derby. He didn't need anymore encouragement to start pounding away and reach his finish line.

A little whine coming from the place where her neck met her shoulder before she felt teeth digging into her skin made her frown. She couldn't understand for the life of her why he tried hiding his orgasms.

With her splinted arm resting on his back to hold him she returned her other set of fingers to his hair, knowing it was something that drove him crazy when she pulled. The soft gasp he made proved her right. She kept tugging until his teeth released and his ear was level with her lips.

"I want to hear you when you cum, moan for me." she demanded in a husky whisper before allowing him to return to the position he favored.

She was rewarded with a loud groan when she clenched around him, his teeth digging into her flesh so hard she felt a trickle of warmth spill over her shoulder and drip into the pillow behind her. She flexed her muscles repeatedly, squeezing his dick without mercy, making pained sounds come from him without restraint.

"Krys, fuck." he panted out quietly against her neck before his eyes screwed shut and he buried himself as far as he could possibly go.

"Cum for me." she urged, pulling his upper body flush against her, bending her knees up along his sides to send him deeper despite the sting.

He obeyed with an eardrum rattling yell and jets of hot cum bathing her insides, his hips jerking in tiny motions while his cock spasmed inside her. Though she'd teased him before about his sex face she found it absolutely adorable. Mouth hanging open with his eyebrows scrunched together so tight they might disappear into the forehead wrinkles they made, blood covering his chin. Blood?

"Fuck are yo-..oh..right." she muttered, wiping more of the red liquid away from her skin before he was allowed to rest his face there again.

"We've talked about this Mac, I'm not a fucking chew toy." she reminded him halfheartedly, making him laugh quietly and lick at the wound.

"Why we gotta go early?" Mac grumbled, back to simultaneously throwing a pissfest and freaking out now that he was being shoved into a ceremony gown on top of the suit.

"Because we're bringing half the refreshments." she sighed, blinking her tired eyes repeatedly to make them focus.

Kristy was just happy she didn't have to drive. After all she'd scrambled to get done that day she was exhausted. Once they arrived and she had a Martha Stuart relapse over the arrangement of the table at the back of the gym she got a good fifteen minutes to sit and rest before people started filing in. Walter and the rest of the brood arrived on time, Regina shying around Mac to get to her favorite person in the world. She'd almost forgotten who else she'd invited with everything else going on that day until she saw the rest of his family.

' _I probably just lost fifty bucks.'_ she mentally scowled, letting out a sigh of disappointment.

Right before the graduates were supposed to line up she remembered something else.

"Give me the keys to the car." she demanded after pointing out where he was supposed to stand in line and shoving a square cap on his head.

"Wut tha hell fer? It's gonna start soon." he growled while digging to find his pocket under the stupid gown, nerves making him into a royal anxious dick.

"I forgot the camera in the car." she supplied, turning on her heel only to be tugged right back.

"Jus forget tha stupid pictures." he snapped, his eyes darting quickly from the stage to her, worry plainly showing through his snarl.

"Mac I'm not even bringing my coat I'm going to be so quick. Even though I'm walking funny." she added with a pointed look. "I wouldn't miss this for the world, I'll be right back." she promised, cupping his face and leaning in for a quick peck before taking off out the gymnasium doors.

She was speed walking as fast as she could in the stacked red bottom heels he'd also requested, knowing every minute she was gone Mac would be freaking out double time. Krystal made it halfway across the parking lot before a fist met her temple and she was knocked over onto the hood of a car.


	13. Surprise! Part 2

 

 

 

 

"Just knock her around and bust her up, nothin' fatal." Arlene instructed, slipping the unsavory hothead a fifty.

She loved the fact that the little cunt would be paying for her own ass-whooping. The thought brought a nasty crooked smile to her still battered face.

"Mind if I roll 'er? I could use tha extra cash." he grunted after pocketing his payment, looking from behind the boulder that served as their meeting place to survey the nearly full parking lot.

"Fuck if I care, rape her while you're at it." she indifferently replied with a shrug which made her hired muscle grin lecherously.

"Now listen up." she barked, grabbing his attention away from car crowded lot. "Watch for me and then follow my car, this bullshit ceremony should only take an hour. I'll show you where she lives and keep her boyfriend distracted while you do it." she explained before coughing up a wad of bloody phlegm and spitting it aside.

"Alright I got it but I gotta ask, wad she do ta piss ya off so bad?" he asked idiotically as if the condition of her face didn't explain it all.

Not wanting to admit she'd gotten her ass beaten she lied, sort of.

"The whore is fuckin' my son, aint that reason enough?" she snapped, moving out from behind the large rock to make her way to the community center.

Arlene stopped dead in her tracks, quickly turning back to the leather jacket clad dumb-ass.

"That's the little bitch. Do it now so I can watch an I'll pay you double." she hurriedly offered, pointing out the lone girl dressed in ebony exiting the main entrance.

He didn't even bother to look around to make sure there weren't any witnesses before he gladly accepted and started slinking in between cars. Moving in to cut her off in one of the lot's middle isles he snuck up behind her from around the rear end of a van. The clicking of her heels drowned out any sound he might have made while pulling his fist back to swing.

Arlene had to clamp a hand over her mouth before a cackle slipped out. Watching the girl go stumbling sideways onto an old Nissan was just too good. Aside from her fixes she speculated this was just about the best damn thing she'd ever bought.

"Who's yer daddy bitch?" he hollered with a deep laugh, grabbing hold of her good wrist to yank her off the car, thinking an injured woman all done up was going to be easy pickins.

He was too preoccupied looking at the assets her tight little dress and twisted position on the hood showed off to see her peer up through the curtain of her curled inky hair. He didn't see the way her face changed when she realized it wasn't Mac following her to the car to let a little tension out. And he sure as hell didn't see the heel coming at his face.

A mouth dropped open a few yards away while its owner watched Krystal shish-kabob her hired help's face in an unnatural move that had to require painful stretching and pervious training to pull off.

Unable to dislodge her heel from the gory hole that used to be the screaming asshole's cheek, she let it go, pushing him backwards with a kick of her leg while slipping her bare foot free all at once.

His distressed noises of agony made a maniacal laugh bubble up from deep in her core as she situated herself to sit on the hood with her legs crossed after she removed the other shoe.

"My daddy's the Devil." she answered in an almost psychotically sympathetic way before she began laughing again, tilting her head back so her face was revealed and her gruesome scars were highlighted in the yellow lot light.

The words  _'highly capable'_ echoed through her mind as Arlene watched her toy with a man twice her size. A shiver wracked her body at the sound of the girl's chilling laughter. She was starting to get pissed as she watched the scene continue, as though she actually had money riding on the fight. Her man was certainly losing as the parking lot tussle continued but not without landing a blow or two of his own when he could actually get close enough.

"What? That's it? You don't wanna play anymore?" Kristy cooed in a mocking tone at the man lying on the ground panting equally as hard as she.

Arlene clapped quietly to herself, getting giddy as she saw the gleam of a blade being withdrawn at an angle the girl couldn't see. That was before she realized her sore loser was about to take it too far just like she had instructed him not to. She contemplated coming out of hiding and stopping the whole thing for a second but it was already happening and she doubted he'd stop if she told him to. Especially since the girl was leaning over him to rifle through his pockets, looking for an ID at the worst possible moment.

It was a stupid decision but Krystal knew she had to make sure he was a local, just a random piece of shit mugger not tied to something much worse. As she felt metal rip through the tender skin of her left side she realized just how stupid it was. She retreated a few steps, looking down at the small knife protruding from her abdominal area in disbelief. When she looked up to find him trying to limp away towards the edge of the lot she snapped, chasing after him while removing the blade from her flesh easily.

If she had her own switchblade which was sitting inside her clutch on her chair in the gymnasium what happened next would have been over much quicker. After he was tackled to the ground she went temporarily insane, stabbing the shallow knife into his back over and over while he screamed and struggled. Thanks to his leather covering it only created painful flesh wounds, making him squeal louder and louder as she continued and he failed to buck her off. Finally catching on through her bloodlust she wove the fingers of her splinted hand through his curly dark hair, yanking his head back before plunging the blade in with the other, dragging it across to open up his throat and end the man's struggle for life.

The entire fight lasted no more than three minutes but to Arlene it had played out in slow motion, every stab getting drawn out. The demonic look on the girl's face would be etched into her brain for life. She continued watching as Kristy stood from her straddling position on the body, cursing up a storm while looking around frantically before making a beeline to her black vehicle two isles over. When she returned with an industrial size roll of plastic wrap Arlene's mouth dropped open once again. The girl unrolled a length of it and began wrapping the body like a morbid burrito repeatedly until it more-so resembled a spider's swaddled dinner and blood no longer seeped through the numerous layers.

"Holy shit." she murmured, eyes bulging wide as she surveyed the tiny girl hauling the heavy body all the way to her open trunk like an ant carrying three times its weight.

Kristy returned to the scene of the crime with a bottle of bleach, making sure to dilute all the blood she could while helping it to stream down into a sewer drain hole before moving to collect her shoes. She was beyond pissed at herself as she threw the now empty jug into the trunk next to the body. She could have just run back into the community center after the first punch. She could have let him run away after he'd stabbed her. Now she had a dead body to dispose of on the fly and a sinking feeling in her gut that had nothing to do with the stab wound. She was going to miss Mac's graduation. All because she'd lost control for a few minutes.

She vaguely remembered hearing the echoes of professor Campbell's opening speech while lugging the body to the car. If she sped and was lucky enough to find a dumpster nearby she might make it, just barely. With her adrenaline still pumping through her system the ignored the fiery sting in her side and pressed her bare foot on the petal without restraint. She had no idea that if she looked back in her rear view mirror at that moment she would see Arlene slinking towards the community center entrance.

Mac looked at the clock situated over the gym doors again. It'd been five minutes. Factoring in the heels plus the way she was walking thanks to his earlier surprise anal play, five minutes wasn't unreasonable. He shouldn't be freaking out. But he was. And his mother appearing beneath the clock didn't help. His eyes widened with surprise and he turned back around in line, hoping she hadn't spotted him. His mind was racing a mile a minute trying to figure out why she was there, momentarily distracting him from his original reason to panic. Until the conclusion of the shriveled old prune's speech. Then he began chewing on his bottom lip with a vengeance as names began to get called and the line started moving. Bringing him closer and closer to the front.

Disappointment, anger, and resentment tinted the tips of his ears red as he turned around again to look for her. But he couldn't deny that he was still holding out hope that she'd make it. The irony of the last woman he'd held out hope to come back for him being in the room was too much for him to think about as his nails dug into his palms harder.

Kristy was maintaining the perfect balance between speeding without getting caught, mentally reprimanding herself, and scouring the passing buildings for what she needed. After driving for another good two minutes a blessing appeared in the form of a waste receptacle on the side of an industrial warehouse. It was far enough back that the flames wouldn't be seen unless someone was gazing out a passenger window intently.

"This is what all the 'bullshit in the back' is for Mac." she muttered to herself while she retrieved the full can of gas from the rear, making her way towards the evidence-filled dumpster.

More bleach was used on the trail between the car and the soon to be flaming metal box, covering the red droplets dripping down her leg onto the pavement as she worked, leaving no usable evidence behind. A patch of matches were sacrificed before it was all over and she was racing back towards the community center, hoping to hell she didn't just miss one of the most important events of Mac's life.

' _And I fucking promised him I'd be right back too.'_   she remembered, self disappointment sweeping through her as she punched the dashboard with her good hand, which was now quite battered as well.

A parking spot wasn't bothered with as her tires screeched into the lot. With the Denali's engine cut in the fire lane next to the center's sidewalk she snatched her shoes and the camera from the passenger seat.

Mac was having a silent meltdown, clenched fists shaking at his sides. There were only three people left in front of him and Krystal was nowhere in sight. Looking back yet again he avoided his mother's eyes. Her seat at the end of the row was empty save for her coat and clutch. He was about to step out of line when another name was called until she appeared through the double doors. She waved a pair of shoes at him and then snapped a photo of him looking at her slack-jawed before flopping down next to his mother. She looked like hell but she was there. She was there for him.

She'd ran barefoot the entire way and even had time to spare to try and make herself look presentable. If that was possible while covered in dirt and cement burn. Kristy was shocked when a wad of tissues were extended her way while she was trying to keep pressure on the wound and fix her destroyed hair all at once. She eyed Arlene wearily, accepting them when she realized people were staring and she would soon start bleeding all over the floor if she didn't get something to absorb it. The material of her dress was already soaked through completely. She'd never been so happy to be wearing black. If she'd worn the dusty gold dress she'd originally been planning on she would have been forced to miss Mac graduating.

As the last name before his was called she shoved the camera into his mother's hands pointing out the correct button to push before shoving the tissues through the rip on the dress. Once they were firmly in place and clapping began for the most recent graduate she looked up to see Mac mouthing "What the fuck!?" at her. He wasn't paying attention as his name was called, too busy staring at her busted up state until she pointed towards the stage and made a face.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he cleared the steps no problem and as she watched Mac accept his diploma she realized wet trails were traveling down her face. She'd heard of people crying because they were happy but before now she'd never thought it was real. Despite her aching limbs she rose from her seat and clapped wildly for Mac, throwing in a shrill two-fingered whistle as he exited the stage. She shook her head fondly and hurriedly wiped the tears away as he began making his way towards her instead of the seating provided for graduates on the other side of the isle.

"We won't be here much longer, now's the time to make good on the rest of your end of the deal if you want your money." she hissed at Arlene, slumping down into her seat with a wince while taking the camera back from her.

All she got was a glare before Mac was crouching beside her, freaking out over her injuries and demanding to know what happened.

"It was just some druggie in the parking lot." she muttered, waving it off to lean over and wrap her arms around him. "You have no idea how proud I am of you Mac." she told him, burying her face in his neck, not caring if she got blood on the rented gown.

"Where's that motherfu-" he began, ignoring the self-pride welling up in his chest, getting shushed by the split lips close to his ear.

"It's already taken care of." she whispered before pulling away to give him a dark look and discretely elbow a certain someone in the ribs.

A cough brought Mac's attention to the woman who's gaze he'd purposely been avoiding the entire time his anxious eyes sought the battered girl seated next to her. He knew Krystal was the only reason any of his family members were there. Which was why he had no idea how to react to what came next.

"Ya looked real good up there son…made your mama proud …. congratulations …" Arlene awkwardly offered, giving him a thumbs up when he only stared at her equally as awkward before grunting at her in reply.

Mac wasn't ecstatic but Kristy could tell he wasn't pissed either, he looked rather confused to be exact. Probably because he'd never gotten a lick of praise from his mother in his entire life. She watched his eyes turn downcast as he nodded at Arlene only for them to bulge wide as he noticed the bloodied tissue through the slit in her dress. She cut him off before he could freak out any further.

"It's shallow and the blade didn't hit anything. I'll be fine. Just go take your seat and we'll leave as soon as it's over." she hurriedly whispered, moving her hand to cover the crimson patch. "Seriously, it's nothing but a scratch. I don't want it ruining your big night." she insisted with a smile, resisting the urge to cringe when the act tore her lip further.

When Mac tried to protest and insist they leave immediately she lost her composure for a moment, growling at him to go sit down before kissing him roughly on the cheek and shoving him away. She let out an exhausted sigh as he complied. Her eyes left him once he sat only to find the woman next to her staring at her with her foul mouth hanging wide open.

"Ya got stabbed an all you care about is the dumb-ass's night not being ruined?" she marveled in more of a statement than a question, making the girl next to her roll her eyes.

"Mac always comes first as far as I'm concerned." she remarked with a condescending look while opening her clutch. "Not that you'd know what it's like to care about someone enough to put them before your own well-being."

She knew she was a selfish bitch, a poor excuse for a mother, and she knew the girl was right. Instead of making a nasty retort once she had the rest of her money in hand Arlene did something that surprised even herself.

"'M glad..that he's got someone like you lookin' out for him." she admitted before stuffing the cash away in her bra and getting up to leave.

Kristy's eyebrows rose in surprise as she took it as a complement, tucking her feet in so Arlene could pass. She made a split second decision, catching the edge of her ratty jacket to get her attention.

"If you can keep up the nice act towards Mac you're welcome to come to his graduation party. There'll be free booze." she added, knowing this could either go good or very bad.

It was Arlene's turn to be surprised. All she really wanted was to go back to her motel room so she could get high. But her orders to get close to the girl were nagging at the back of her mind, forcing her to accept.

Once she was gone Kristy slid over, taking up her spot next to Devon, demanding he hold out his hand. The appalled look on his face when she spat into it repeatedly was hilarious.

"Should I even ask?" he questioned, looking from his loogie-filled hand to her numerous bleeding scratches and coloring bruises.

"Save it, just please for the love a god tell me everything is done?" she demanded while extracting a foil packet from her bag.

Devon nodded in the affirmative as he watched her rip it open and dump its contents into the spit puddle, the green powder becoming a thick gunk once mixed together.

"Alright, good. The timeline has been moved up thanks to unforeseen events. Which means you need to get your ass moving as soon as I'm done here." she instructed while loading a finger with the goop and replacing the saturated tissues with it.

He made a face as he nodded again, sniffing the tingling residue left on his hand.

"What is this?" he asked, keeping his hand as far away from his face as he could once he got a whiff of its odor.

"Oh just a little something I mixed up." she shrugged while wiping the extra concoction on his clothes much to his dislike.

With a wave of her hand she sent him away with Regina and then Walter following. Giving the latter a pointed look she reinstated the little talk she'd had with Walter earlier that day about praising his son on his accomplishment. She watched as the aging man veered towards the back row Mac had seated himself in to watch her. She enjoyed watching the old man fidget uncomfortably but it was undeniably sad that he struggled so hard just to tell his son he was proud of him. As Walter put a hesitant hand on Mac's shoulder and he in turn flinched under it she wondered if anyone had ever said three simple but very important words to Mac. She doubted it seeing as Walter was having this much trouble just saying congratulations and Arlene…well that one was pretty obvious too.

' _I should probably tell him. I mean..I do..don't I? He's the reason I get up in the morning.'_ she thought as a bolt of rejectional fear ran through her while she watched Walter shake his shoulder in a manly manner and turn to walk away.

The nervous butterflies stirred up by her inner musings intensified when Walter moved to reveal a smiling Mac. It wasn't a true black teeth baring smile but it was a smile none the less. Everything she'd done to make this night happen became exponentially worth it to see that public smile. She couldn't tell what Walter had said but it had to be a wonderful feeling for Mac, to finally get some form of approval from his dad. Even if it was a little forced.

' _But he doesn't need to know that.'_ she reminded herself, guilty conscience moving to other things she was keeping from him for his own peace of mind.

When he caught her staring she motioned for him to join her with a crook of her finger, holding back a laugh when he stepped on the front of his gown and stumbled a bit. His face was a rosy pink when he made it to the seat next to her muttering about bullshit dresses.

"Can I say I'm proud of you one more time or are you sick of hearing it?" she jokingly inquired, getting a scoff and a comment about being a broken record.

Kristy leaned up against his side, pleased when he nudged her off so he could drape his arm across her shoulders and she could snuggle further into him for the duration of the ceremony. Mac looked down at the top of her snarled hair, noting dried blood matting it together in places. Today was the first day of his life that he didn't feel completely worthless. But in light of him not being there to protect her in was slightly tainted. He knew she didn't need him to protect her but if felt like a failure on his part irregardless.

' _If ya woulda fuckin' been there she wouldna got stabbed.'_ he berated himself, curling his arm around her bruised frame a little tighter.

Aside from that he felt like he was on top of the world. He also knew the sentiments coming from his parents were thanks to the injured girl beside him. He wasn't stupid when it came to things like that. He knew such kind words would never have come from them if there wasn't someone threatening them to do so. But the fact that she put so much effort into creating the illusion was what meant the most to him. She cared enough to force his family into caring too. Or at least pretending to care.

Mac was elated when he could finally take the gown and cap off, tossing them into the back seat like they were toxic. When he tried going for the tie next she stopped him.

"Don't. Just let me enjoy it a little longer until we get home. Then you can change and I promise I won't make you wear a suit again until your funeral." she bargained, reaching over to tug his hand away from the silky material.

The ride back to Cainville was quiet until they passed a blazing warehouse surrounded by cops and firefighters.

"Oops." she muttered, shrugging when Mac looked at her with a brow raised in silent question. "How was I supposed to know the whole place would go up in flames I had a body to get rid of and I was about to miss your graduation."

The rest of the ride was spent with Mac whining for details as he drove and her reluctantly supplying them. He glanced down at her high heel clad feet, shuddering slightly and making her laugh hard. Until a sharper pain tore into her side.

"Shit the patch ripped. Stop at Luna Mesa, we're out of stitches at the house and I know Walter has some in the bar's first-aid kit." she explained after he looked at her funny for wanting to stop at the darkened bar.

When Mac put the Denali in park and made no move to get out she let out a light frustrated growl, covering it nicely by clutching her once again bleeding side.

"I'm going to need you to stitch me up." she informed him, holding up her pathetic splinted hand.

After Mac procured the hidden spare key she made him go first, claiming ignorance to the location of the light switch. Once he found it the overhead lights illuminated an empty Bar for a second until people popped out from numerous places, emerging with a yelled "Surprise!" that made Mac jump out of his skin.


	14. True Family

 

 

 

 

Kristy wanted to laugh, seeing him jump like that at something that wasn't clown related was hilarious. But as he stepped back into her she felt bad, reaching out to stroke her palm across his suit jacket covered back.

"Maybe I should have left the surprise part out." she muttered to herself as a "Congratulations!" banner was unfurled and he jumped again.

Once he actually recognized faces Mac relaxed. All the guys from the shop were there along with their pay by the hour "dates" or girlfriends. Regina appeared to be stuck in a time loop, disappearing behind the bar only to pop out and yell surprise time after time. Devon was busy bringing in aluminum trays of food from the kitchen while Walter was opening drinks. He even spied a flash of graying blonde hair in the back corner sipping on a whisky sour.

Mac turned back to look at the girl behind him. He intended to bitch her out for not giving him any warning but she looked noticeably pale. And as he felt her fingers dig into his shoulder a little harder he realized she was using him for balance. Sometimes with the way she acted it was easy to forget that she was only human.

Completely ignoring his guests Mac drug her along towards Walter's office. He was worried by the lack resistance that normally resulted from him manhandling her in public. She was leaning on him heavily now for support, steps becoming slow an uneven.

"God damn it Devon you can't put salad next to a heated tin it'll wilt!" she halfheartedly barked, her voice lacking its usual sharp edge and volume.

When she realized where Mac was headed she resisted a little, making him look over at her questioningly.

"Ya need stichen' up 'fore ya lose more blood." he insisted, his point being proved when her legs gave out completely and he had to catch her.

"I just said that to get you in here. I'm not dealing with fucking stitches and being careful not to pull them for weeks. I need you to cauterize it." she decided, jerking her head towards the kitchen door, weaving her arms around his neck as he began carrying her bridal style with her wound facing outwards.

Mac sat her on one of the counters, moving to retrieve the rubbing alcohol she requested when he was sure she wouldn't fall from her slumped position against the cabinets. When he returned she laid herself out along the countertop, thankful when he dealt with pulling the ruined dress up high enough to bare the cut. And that the cool surface beneath her face was beginning to ease some of her lightheadedness.

"I fucked up tonight Mac." she murmured as he began peeling the remnants of her concoction away from her skin.

"It's been like a pressure building up ever since that day out in the cave. I never had a need like it before. But it's there now and I fucked up tonight because I've been ignoring it." she confessed when he looked at her in confusion, referring to the bloodlust that'd never been a part of her psychopathism before her first murder.

"I see the way you stare out at the canyons sometimes.. I know you feel it too." she speculated sadly, disheartened to know they'd never truly be the normal people they'd been masquerading as for the past few months.

He didn't deny it. She was right. It'd never left him and it was a fraction of the reason why their basement was covered wall to wall in spider sketches. And why there was a growing pile of secret small animal corpses at the bottom of the cliff that ended their backyard.

When he grunted out a "Sorry." in reaction to the curse she yelled out thanks to the sterilizing liquid he was pouring over the wound, she shook her head slowly as an idea came to her.

"Don't be sorry. Pretend it isn't me. Pretend we're in the cave and I'm just another stuck up college bitch." she suggested animatedly, making him look up from pouring alcohol on the knife that'd been selected.

Mac wondered briefly if insanity was a symptom of severe blood loss before she actually began making sense.

"I'm serious. I almost missed your graduation because I lost control. I lost control because I've been ignoring the need. I don't want you losing it and killing someone in public because you've been trying to be normal. Pretend I'm just another victim when I scream. I want to see if it helps." she reasoned, watching him mull it over as he held the blade over an open stove burner.

She watched as he came closer, noting the way his eyes kept away from her face. They were focused on the blood and the raw open flesh. When the red hot tip was pushed into her skin she didn't hold back like she usually did when it came to showing pain. She knew their screams were his favorite part. With the smell of her singed flesh still hanging in the air she watched as he moved down further, stopping at her calf to press the still scalding blade into her skin again.

"Mac that's enough." she hissed through clenched teeth once she was done screaming for his benefit, sitting up when he moved to do it again. "I'm not exactly in the condition to play a full game of psycho murderer tonight."

She was thankful when his eyes refocused on her face, relief and a little excitement playing on his features. She knew mutilating her wouldn't satisfy him forever since he was used to a complete kill. But she hoped it would help curb the urges in the meantime.

He helped her out into the dining area where many of the guests were staring curiously thanks to the pained shrieks that came from the kitchen. Mac was relieved he didn't have to keep what he'd been struggling with from her anymore. It made him want to tell her everything else. All the secrets that'd burdened him most of his life. But especially the one that still haunted him daily. The one he was most ashamed of.

"Get Richie over here, I need him to escort me up to the house. I need some vitamins to get my blood count back up. More antiseptic and a bandage on the burn wouldn't be a bad idea either so I don't get an infection." she rambled from the seat he'd guided her to, looking up to find him displeased.

"M' gonna take ya." he protested, pushing her back into the bar stool when she tried to stand.

"No. This is your party." she growled, yelling out for the mechanic she desired since she didn't have the energy to strong-arm her way around Mac like she normally would.

When he argued that Devon should go with her instead as Richie approached she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Seriously? Do you really think I'm going to fuck  _anyone_  in the condition I'm in?" she snarled, ready to chew him out before she took a deep breath and mentally cursed his insecurities.

"I'm all fucked up. Regina isn't capable of helping me. And honestly in my weakened condition I don't trust your brother. Or Walter. But I do trust Richie." she stated tiredly, giving him a reassuring kiss before filling Richie in on the situation when he reached them.

As she waved over her shoulder at him one more time before they made it out the door she knew Mac wasn't happy. And she felt guilty that she wasn't being completely honest about why she'd chosen Richie to drive her up to the house.

He watched begrudgingly as Richie helped her into the Denali, hating the ridiculously rigid social etiquette she followed when it came to parties. Not that the caliber of guests attending would have minded if he'd disappeared for a bit. They were mostly there for the free alcohol and food.

His eyes followed the car's headlights as they made the turns up the winding driveway. He ordered a drink from Walter before realizing what the fuck he'd just done and how un- _him_ it was. He knew Krystal was changing him for the better, making him want to be a better man for her. But he was still Mac.

The Jim Beam bottle was roughly snatched from its place behind the bar after a sloppily made drink was pushed his way. Ignoring Walter's yell of protest he seated himself near a window, watching as two small walking figures were illuminated in the car's parking lights up on the hill.

He was downing his first glass and thinking about Krystal wanting a streetlight put up there like the one that'd been at his old house when a shadow fell over his table. It took a gravely phlegm-filled throat clear before he ripped his gaze away from the illuminating glow of their kitchen light flicking on.

"Aint got no money ta give ya." he tersely bit out at the sight of his mother, unconsciously pressing himself closer to the window when she sat down across from him.

"Walter already got to ya huh?" Arlene theorized, moving for the bottle to refill her glass, not missing the way he flinched when she reached out towards him. "I don't need the money anymore. I'm not here for that."

"Wut tha hell are ya still here fer then?" he snapped, finally voicing his desire for her to disappear again.

The genuine hurt that ran through Arlene startled her. She studied her son, watching him gaze up at the house as the bedroom light turned on and then off again. He didn't look much like Walter and she mentally cursed the spick for probably being right about him not being Mac's real father. She realized staring at him wasn't going to make her stop feeling. The only solution for that was sitting in her motel room. So she might as well ignore her motherly emotions like she'd done all the boy's life and get back to the plan.

"I'm here for you Mackenzie." she told him with false kindness, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

Mac glared at his mother, snatching his hand away from her touch to pour himself another drink.

"Why? Ya sure as shit weren't here fer me god knows how long ago when ya fuckin' left me with  _him_." he snarled, getting more pissed off the longer he had to look at her. "With nothin'. No money, no food, no fuckin' birth certificate. Don't even know how fuckin' old I am cuza you!"

"An it aint like ya were mother a tha year when ya were 'round." he added with a dark look, referring to all the horrible things he'd been subjected to while in her care.

"Did ya even know who he really was when ya left me with him? What he…" he trailed off, visibly shutting down as his damaged mind took him somewhere else and a shudder ran through him.

She stayed silent as he ranted, mentally calculating if getting closer to the girl was worth this headache. Information meant money. So she did her best to imitate sincerity.

"I'm sorry Mackenzie. I left ya here because I was young and I just wanted to have a good time. Not take care of a kid. And the rest…" she paused with a deep sigh, downing a full glass in one gulp as horrible memories from her own childhood came back. "That was jus how I was raised. Ya come from a long line a fucked up people." she concluded, essentially canceling out her initial apology with excuses.

"But I'm here now." she offered when he remained silent and his eyes stayed on the now darkened house up above.

"Don' need ya now." he grunted, gaze trained on the interior lights of the Denali.

Arlene bristled at his unaffected answer, irrational jealousy coursing through her as her son rejected her.

"What 'cause ya got  _her_ now? Do  _you_  even know who  _she_  really is?" she snapped, losing her composure as she threw his earlier question back in his face. "Be honest, ya got no idea what she did before she came here, who she was, where she came from."

The mention of Krystal mixed with her tone grabbed his attention with violent force. Just as he was about to tell his mother off she cut in and he was forced to process what she'd actually said. She was digging into his vulnerabilities and insecurities with razor sharp claws of doubt.

"Admit it. Ya don't know shit about the girl up there all alone with your buddy." she insinuated, watching as he thought about it. "You only know what she wants you to know."

Kristy was gently deposited into a kitchen chair once they made it inside before he was instructed to gather all that she needed.

"The meth is in the last cupboard on the right in a tin behind the waffle iron." she added once he looked at her expectantly, fidgeting from impatience and withdrawals.

Richie was the only customer in Cainsville that'd stuck around after they stopped selling because he had an understanding with Krystal.

"Can't I jus start payin' ya? he begged, moving to hurriedly extract the locked box with excited shaking hands.

"What's the problem with our current arrangement?" she inquired with a sharp bite of irritation coloring her voice before she popped a plethora of vitamins in her mouth and began gulping water.

"He's…he's mean. Makes funna me alla tha time." he finally answered after hesitating, knowing she wouldn't give up the goods until he did.

She let out a short sarcastic laugh.

"Tough shit. You know the deal. Be his best friend or you don't get your fix anymore." she threatened, unlocking the box to wave a little pink powder filled baggy at him tauntingly until he nodded in agreement.

"You'll get it at the end of the night after the party is over." she chided when he began reaching forward with an open palm.

She watched as he sighed and dutifully returned the box to its hiding spot, mentally giving herself a pat on the back for coming up with the perfect place. Mac would never find it. He wouldn't be cooking for quite a while after what'd happened the first time he tried. Kristy sent him into the bedroom with instructions to come back with another black dress, using his absence to roll her tattered one up and tend to the burn.

"Eyes closed." she barked, maneuvering into the new garment before getting to the main point of why she'd chosen Richie to come.

"Does Mac have like…a dream car or a favorite kind or something like that?" she asked, assuming that was one of the things the guys discussed while swigging beer and doing idiotic man things.

She watched Richie think from his leaned stance against the counter, worrying the black scruff along his jaw line.

"Nineteen-seventy Ford stepside." he finally recalled, snapping his fingers when his addled mind eventually grasped it.

Kristy raised her eyebrows in surprise, pleased that Richie was actually helpful in the Mac-information department for once. With everything taken care of she slipped the little baggie of blackmail into her clutch and tiredly ordered that it was time to get back to the party.

"He's probably freaking the fuck out." she muttered to herself under her breath as Richie drove down the curves of the driveway.

Her theory was proved right when they pulled in and Mac was illuminated sitting on top of a picnic table. An ignored cigarette dangling from his fingers lightly glew red once the headlights were switched off and he was immersed in darkness.

As she drew near to him she could smell liquor wafting off him and she faintly heard him murmur something along the lines of "Came back fer me." while his gaze stayed fixed on the ground.

Mac hadn't given her every detail of his abandonment so she had no idea how significant that exact spot was. But she could sense he was in one of his dark places at the moment, reliving a painful memory.

With a shooing hand motion thrown Richie's way she dismissed him, knowing Mac wouldn't want anyone else around. When she didn't get a negative reaction from gently placing a hand on his knee she got closer, wedging herself between his parted legs. Moving slowly until she could slip her arms under his and wrap them around him, letting his chin hook over her shoulder to rest there.

"I'll always come back for you Mac. You know that." she whispered reassuringly as she rubbed her good hand along his back repeatedly, trying to bring him out of it.

Kristy was thankful when she felt his arms circle around her after some time. Because her unstable legs were just about ready to give out again, her knees landing on the seat and his hold saving her from collapsing once more.

"You good?" she asked hopefully, pulling away a little to look at him.

When she got a weak nod in return she was led to wonder what had triggered this episode, deciding not to ask now that he was slowly surfacing. She didn't want him in such a gloomy state on a night that was supposed to celebrate his accomplishment so she did her best to entice him.

"Why don't you take me inside so you can have another drink and I can watch you beat Richie's ass in a game of pool?" she suggested, moving a hand to cup his down-turned face and run her thumb across his cheek.

He was silent for a few minutes longer, lifting his head to finally look at Krystal, studying her damaged features, convincing himself this was real and not the somber place he'd been stuck inside his mind.

"Could use another one." he eventually chuckled, moving to help her stand before leaving the unpleasantly nostalgic piece of lawn furniture behind.

With Mac back in party mode and her dizzy ass firmly planted in a chair she could relax, sipping on a glass of ice water while she watched him enjoy himself. She was appreciating the sight his tie-less partially unbuttoned dress shirt exposed when someone blocked her view, taking up the seat across from her.

"You wouldn't happen to be the reason Mac was sitting outside alone in the dark when I got back, would you?" she accused, highly suspicious that the haggard woman in front of her was the cause of his episode.

"Haven't talked to him since ya made me." she lied, flipping her fried yellow hair behind her shoulder.

Kristy began massaging the temple she hadn't been punched in, sure Arlene didn't just come over there to chit-chat about the weather.

"Walter told me why you came to town and I think I've contributed more than enough money to your predicament." she told her with a sigh, looking down her nose at the woman.

Arlene rolled her eyes as her second manipulative conversation of the night started just the same as the first. She pulled out her secret weapon, placing it face down on the table, smiling vindictively inside when the girl glanced at it curiously.

"M' not here for money anymore. It's about family now." she claimed, watching as the girl's eyes mirrored her own earlier action. "I'm just about the only true family you got left with your mama gone." she went on, observing Krystal's hardening expression at the latter claim.

Along with distrust she couldn't help the curiosity prickling her. The woman in front of her was the only  _technical_  relative she had left and she was eager to know more about where she came from. She kept her interest shadowed with an indifferent expression on her face while she listened to her aunt continue.

"Your mama's parents fostered children till they had her. And after she was a few years old they opened their house again. I was the last one after they adopted me. Your grandparents were upstanding people in public. But behind closed doors…" she paused, getting herself back on track. "Lets just say you come from a long line of sick minded people." she continued, using the same line she had on Mac with a little variation in the wording.

Kristy wasn't surprised by the last part. In her early days of researching her condition she'd learned that many psychopaths were created by childhood violence that was a repeated endless cycle of past generations. A legacy of violent insanity. She'd known Grandma and Grandpa were probably just as fucked in the head as her mother by the time she was twelve. That's why she'd had so much hope about her father's side of the family when she'd originally set out for Cainville.

"Charlene and I ran away when we were about thirteen after daddy started rapin' us. We drifted around from place to place over the years, having a good time and makin' money any way we could. It went on like that for years till everything happened here. Then me and your mama parted ways." she surmised, referring to the possible conception of the girl in front of her as what had driven the sisters apart.

"Do you know who my father is?" Kristy inquired, ready to take whatever answer she got with a full salt shaker instead of just a grain.

Arlene shook her head, pulling a pack of cheap cigarettes from her purse to light one up. She'd drug her son across the country to that dirty mitten. Just to see if her sister's daughter resembled the man currently having a beer with his favorite offspring at the bar. The fight that'd ended the short family reunion was a testament to how strongly Arlene believed that Krystal was Walter's daughter. With the girl's lack of emotional response to information about her mother's family Arlene opted to switch the focus of the conversation, sure what she had to say next would pull at the girl's frozen heartstrings.

"I seen ya once before, after your mama had you. Little wrinkly thing with a puff a black hair on your head. You were ugly, lemmie tell you. But Mackenzie thought different." she noted, making the girl lose her cool demeanor for a few seconds as her mouth dropped open.

She looked over at Mac only to find him coming forward with a pool stick in his hand because of her current expression. With a clank of her teeth slamming together she shut her mouth, waving Mac back to his game with a silently mouthed "I'm fine." thrown his way.

"He thought you were just the best damn thing ever 'cause he'd never seen a baby before. Took this picture of the two of ya right before we left." she recalled, flipping the yellowed and worn picture over before pushing it across the table towards her.

She'd never seen images of herself as a baby to know if it was really her in the picture but the mole next to the little boy's mouth proved it was definitely Mac holding the infant. Even if it was a lie, the expression on the baby's face made her feel it was true. Only  _she_  would look at Mac in such a way as if to say "What the hell is wrong with you?" while the white-blond miniature version of him smiled down at her.

Days of torturous interrogation had failed to make her well practiced emotional reserve crack. But a simple picture of her and Mac made it crumble in seconds as she almost started crying without warning.

Not wanting Arlene to see the water pooling in her eyes she stood and started making her way towards him with it in hand, using tables and chairs when she felt as though she might fall. Kristy was mindful of their inked names and the date written in the Polaroid's bottom left-hand corner as she carried it to show him.

Mac was talking to one of the guys about a carburetor that needed replacing tomorrow when he felt a familiar set of claws dig into his shoulder. He turned around to find Krystal near tears, making him glare over at his mother for a second before she was shoving something in his face, insisting he look at it.

Mac looked down at the photo, confusion coloring his face before he recognized himself and moved his eyes down to the faded writing. His perplexed expression deepened as he reached back through his few pleasant childhood memories with his mother, trying to recollect when he'd ever been near a baby.

His mouth dropped open much the same way hers had earlier when he eventually recalled the end of the first of the two horrible road trips he'd endured during his time with his mother.

The clearest detail from that day was the epic banshee brawl that had taken place just after that picture had been snapped. He couldn't remember what the two women had been fighting over but he recalled hiding under a kitchen table with the little bundle in his arms as it escalated. He also remembered getting a smack in the face for crying because he wanted to keep her when it came time to go, and grabbing the picture before he was roughly yanked out of the house.

"Holy shit. That was yew." he remarked in wide-eyed awe before looking at her with a grin. "Jus about blew ma damn eardrums out with yer screamin' back then like ya do now."

His joke made the tears spill over and she quickly wiped them away with a smile stretching her scars.

"Fuck off." she laughed before pointing at the picture. "Look at my face, I knew you were trouble before I could even speak." she jested, referring to the scowl her infant self sported in the photo as she looked up at him.

She let him get back to the game when it was his turn, making her way back to his mother with a smile still plastered on her face. Arlene was pleased with Krystal's reaction, confident that it would be a synch getting the girl to warm up to her now. When she moved to hand the photo back she told Krystal she could keep it, hoping to butter her up further.

"Since I'm the only real family you got left.." she began, reinstating her earlier declaration of the girl's lack of relatives. "..I'd like to start spendin' some time with you. Getting to know ya better."

Arlene watched as Krystal's face darkened, her happy smile getting replaced with a chilling look.

"That's not going to happen since I know some of what you've done to Mac. The only reason I'm being civil and not bathing in your blood right now is because your son doesn't want you dead." she growled lowly, not letting the other woman get a word in edgewise. "If you want to stick around and try to make amends with him that's fine. But if you're only staying to "get to know" me then you might as well pack up and leave because Mac is the only  _"true family"_ I have."


	15. Growing Up Krystal

 

 

 

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**Author's Note:** _I predict seven more chapters in FF give or take. I'll let you guys know when we're getting down to the final few. I can't believe the story is past the halfway point and it makes me sad but also excited for you guys to see what I've got in store! :D_

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She hadn't slept but a few hours before she was awakened by a pain in her side. Kristy lifted the blankets to see Mac's arm draped across her injury, putting unwelcome pressure on the bandaged burn. Moving slowly she grabbed his wrist, lifting carefully until she could pull it upwards and away from the sensitive spot. She was relieved when he didn't wake, unconsciously snuggling into her back further, his relocated hand groping where it fell naturally on her chest as his arm tightened around her.

It was rare when she got to be the little spoon, the one who got cuddled and comforted. So she stayed where she was instead of getting up to do things like she normally would when she couldn't sleep. It was enjoyable and pleasant but it didn't bring the feeling of safety most women felt when their man is wrapped around them. If anything it made her freak out a little. That all the happiness she'd ever known could end with one person's life being extinguished.

To other people Mac looked anything but frail or breakable but to her he might as well have been made of porcelain.

' _It would be so easy for someone to just…'_ she worried, tears of a different kind stinging her eyes as she dared think of the worst.

Mac had woken late that morning with a vengeful hangover, surprised there was a silhouette beneath the covers beside him. Usually she'd already conquered half the world and made breakfast by that time of day. He pulled back the blankets to reveal her curled up facing him, the toll of last night's events showing harsher in the bright morning light. Deep purple and green bruises, patches of skin scraped away by concrete, gashes slowly healing into scabs. Krystal never looked more beautiful to him.

He stayed there looking at her injuries until he watched a shiver ripple through her and her eyes opened. Well, almost opened. One dark orb looked back at him, the other was partially swollen shut.

"I talked to Richie before we left the party last night and you're off the hook at work today so you can take care of me." she croaked, voice still thick with sleep and grogginess.

A grin broke across his face at that before recollections of last night came back to him.

"What were ya talkin' bout with ma mom? Ya looked pretty pissed off by tha end." he noted, freezing when he tried to pull her towards him and she hissed in pain.

She scooted over to him wincing a little, draping her arm around his side, getting closer until her forehead could press against his chest. Kristy already had enough bullshit on her mind, she didn't want to add Arlene into the mix as well.

"She gave me a short family history lesson, gave me the picture, and then tried saying she wanted to spend time with me. I looked pissed because if she's able to pull herself together long enough to want to get to know anyone, it should be you." she grumbled, the movement of her lips tickling the sporadic hairs on his chest.

They laid there in comfortable silence while Mac absorbed her answer until a gurgling noise interrupted it. She looked up at him doing the best she could to imitate the puppy eyes with one refusing to cooperate. "Foood?"

When Mac didn't budge she went for the sensitive nub sticking out from his chest, clamping her teeth around his nipple until he yelped and consented to go pick up some breakfast from the Luna Mesa. She was pleased that his ass was up and moving until she remembered something, calling him back to the bed with a seriousness that made him nervous.

"I've never told you this before but every time you got food from there I always watched it being cooked. No matter how many customers I had waiting on me." she confessed, scars pulling downward in a frown when Mac looked at her like she was crazy.

"Look, I'm not fucking with you. You need to go back into the kitchen and watch while the food is cooked. And never, ever, eat or drink anything Walter or Devon give you if you haven't watched it getting made." she cautioned him, giving the fucked up family equivalent of the childhood warning not to take candy from strangers as she confessed her distrust of his father and brother.

He looked down at her for a few seconds, taking in her stern expression before nodding and jotting down her breakfast order. The possibility of his hateful relatives trying to poison them had never crossed his mind. But the look on her face told him it definitely should have.

While he found it made him feel good to be taking care of her for a change, that entire day and the next couple days Krystal seemed…off.. distant. Distracted like she was busy meticulously planning something in her head while they watched TV in bed and did absolutely nothing of importance. He attributed it to her injured state until a few days later when she forced him to go to work alone and insisted that she needed to stay home and rest. Only for him to come back at lunchtime to find her on a ladder installing the last of six security cameras on the cabin.

"Tha fuck're ya doin'?" he snapped as she almost fell and lost her balance thanks to him startling her, scowling down at him before descending the rickety ladder.

Upon closer inspection he could see she'd installed motion activated flood lights beneath each camera as well. He followed her into the previously rarely used dining room meaning to ask her once more what the hell was going on. He was greeted by a plethora of monitors and wires, each direction surrounding the house showing up on a separate screen. She'd originally intended on distracting him from that very question by teaching him how to use the equipment until he got the hang of the rewind button and witnessed her falling off the ladder on two occasions. Which set off a fight ending in carefully rough sex.

Two days after that he came home from work early and caught her cleaning an ak47 at the kitchen table with a plethora of weapons covering the counters and floor around her. He couldn't just ignore it anymore.

"Is there somethin' I should know? Any reason why yer turnin' tha house into a armed for'tress?" he questioned, moving a sniper rifle from the chair next to her to sit down.

"Be careful, that one is loaded." she warned, ignoring his question while re-assembling the semi-automatic weapon in front of her with memorized grace.

His mother's accusations that he didn't really know who Krystal was were nagging at him while he watched. He repeated his question as she laid the assault rifle in the 'done' pile and grabbed the next one.

"Everything is fine Mac, you can just never be too prepared." she lied, avoiding looking at him as she began disassembling an uzi.

He'd known she ordered weapons online and that the garage was chalk full of mystery crates and boxes he wasn't supposed to mess with. But he had no idea the sheer volume of firepower she possessed.

"Don' tell me everythang is fine when there's a fuckin' bazooka sittin' on tha kitchen counter." he sassed, giving her a lame look of disbelief. "Wut tha fuck're ya preparin' for? World war three?"

Truthfully he should have known something was up right off the bat that first day after the grad ceremony. She'd drawn out a map of the house, instructing him to memorize the locations of all the hidden weapons before she took it away and sent him on the Rambo version of an Easter egg hunt. Demanding he repeat it until he could find the one she requested on command.

Kristy let out a deep sigh, pausing to look around her. After getting jumped so easily she'd gone into survival mode, drawing on the years of training Joe had ingrained into her. If it was that easy for some lowlife punk to get the jump on her. She was just asking for the real threats out there to come knocking on her door with no trouble at all.

"It's not a bazooka. It's a grenade launcher." she corrected him, glad he hadn't noticed the tarp on the backside of the roof concealing a mounted machine gun.

When he pressed for answers again she just flat out ignored him. She hadn't exactly been discreet about fortifying the house. Her two choices were either do it slowly over the course of weeks by night while he slept or get it done in a matter of a couple days openly. With the level of anxiety and paranoia she was feeling she didn't have weeks. She needed the means to keep him safe as soon as possible. So in exchange she was going to be forced to shatter the ignorant bliss she'd been keeping him under.

"Yer keepin' shit from me an it's bullshit! Tell me wut tha fuck is goin' on er 'm leanin'." he threatened when she'd continued to dodge his demands for information.

The threat was empty, he had absolutely no true intention in his being to leave her. But it got her to stop mechanically assembling firearms and look over at him with wide fearful eyes. He hated himself for saying it as soon as she did. He never wanted to see that emotion brought to her features because of him again.

She was terrified for a few seconds that he'd follow through on his ultimatum before anger replaced her panic and she slammed the machinery in her hands down onto the table.

"Keeping shit from you? Are you under the delusional impression that I'm the only one with secrets here." she began in a low hiss, her voice gaining volume as she continued. "Do you think I'm the only one hiding something? Spiders, Mac. One fucking word! Spiders."

He sat back crossing his arms over his chest petulantly, refusing to discuss the meaning behind the habit. Staying silent as she went off on a rant.

"Or how about the fact that you raped Regina. I never would have known that if Devon hadn't told me." she accused, turning that particular situation around to put him in her shoes. "What if the guy who took my virginity came to visit and I said nothing about it. Only for you to find out from a friend of his. Wouldn't you be pissed I didn't tell you? That I kept that from you?"

She had him by the balls there. In the beginning of their relationship he would have resorted to violence at that point in an argument. But he was trying to be better for her. So he stood from the table and headed for the door instead, intending on going down to La Mesa to get shitfaced.

The frantic panic returned as she watched his retreating back, making her yield to his double standard.

"Mac wait!" she yelled out, taking a deep breath as he paused in his steps. "There's nothing going on at this exact second. But something could happen in the future and I want to be ready if it does."

She'd baited him, getting him to turn and look back at her, waiting to see if she'd give more information before he decided to leave or stay.

"I only kept it all from you because I didn't want you worrying over what might happen." she confessed, relieved to see him walking back towards the table.

As she looked down at the gun parts on the table an idea struck her. She could give him the information he wanted while giving him another tool to defend himself.

"Have you ever fired a gun before?" she inquired, confusing him for a second at the subject change before he got pissed and started walking away again. "I'll give you an answer for every target you hit." she offered quickly, hoping to entice him into shooting practice rather than having to force him like she'd intended to earlier.

"No no no. Stop with that gangbanger bullshit. Real gangsters wore suits and fedoras. And I can guarantee you Al Capone never shot his gun sideways." she advised, moving in to straighten the barrel and add his other hand to cup the clip.

She was amazed to learn that even growing up out in the middle of nowhere with Walter's lack of supervision he'd never touched a gun before. Obviously he preferred knives when it came to murdering for pleasure. But a knife wouldn't cut it in the kind of situation they might find themselves in in the future. Kristy found it unbelievable that he'd done the tweaker deliveries without any kind of firearm for protection. Until she reminded herself what he'd been like back then and admitted to herself that Walter was right to not give him one.

"Since you're a beginner you need both hands to help you control the recoil after it fires." she added when he scowled at her manhandling him into the proper position. "Wrap the rest of your fingers around the grip and layer your thumbs on top of each other. Your hands should fit into place like puzzle pieces."

"I know I said shoulder width apart but since you've got the extreme V thing going on just distance your feet enough until you feel comfortable. This lets you fire the weapon with stability and mobility." she continued, grabbing hold of his slim hips to correct them when they still weren't aligned with his shoulders.

When Mac had accepted this little challenge to get the answers he sought he'd had no idea it would involve so many instructions. He'd idiotically thought she'd just hand over a gun and let him go for it.

"When you aim a weapon you look at three things. Your front sight, your rear sight, and the target." she instructed, showing him the little notches on the barrel used for aiming. "And when you fire don't yank on the trigger like it's your dick. Squeeze it gently until it fires or else you might disrupt your sights."

Mac watched as she raised her own weapon, onyx eyes narrowing as she stalked her intended mark, her body completely relaxed and familiar with the rigid pose. He jumped when earsplitting shots rang out and echoed off the canyon walls as Kristy fired in rapid succession, each bullet hitting a target effortlessly. To add to the stress and excitement of learning something new the familiar rush of blood flowing south didn't help matters.

' _Goddamnit jus when I thought she couldn' get any fuckin' hotter.'_ he cursed internally, half tempted to forget the questions and just fuck her against the side of the Denali instead.

He was trying to recall all that she'd just said as he watched her head out to replace the bottles and cans she'd annihilated. But curiosity and lust were killing his concentration. Where the hell did she learn to shoot like that? Why did she need to? Did she know how to handle the deadlier weapons back as the house with just as much expertise? Why does her ass have to look so damn good in those jeans when she bends over? His mouth was drawn into a deep frown when it dawned on him that he most likely didn't stand a chance at hitting a target. Exactly why she'd probably concocted this agreement.

When she returned and told him to go for it he just about popped a blood vessel trying to go through the motions correctly. Exhaling his held in breath slowly he began to carefully squeeze the trigger once he was confident he had the bottle in his sights. Only for a faint click to meet his ears.

"My bad, I forgot to mention that the safety needs to be off before your fire. Any other time double check to make sure it's on. I don't need you shooting me or yourself on accident." she warned, moving to show him the switch and move it until a red dot appeared.

Kristy watched Mac try and fail again and again, observing him start to get discouraged, his frustration making his aim sloppier.

"Calm down. I didn't get it right on my first try either." she coaxed, trying to keep his spirits up. "Then again, I was almost nine. And Joe thought giving me a shotgun with a recoil large enough to knock me on my ass was hilarious." she muttered, making him look up at the slipped information that she'd been taught how to use firearms when most kids were learning how to ride their bike without training wheels.

"Why'd he have ya shootin' that young?" he questioned, dropping his arms to roll his shoulders and crack his neck which had become stiff and strained while he tried to hit his mark.

With a screech about putting the safety on as he waved the gun around while he stretched she figured answering that one wasn't unreasonable.

"He wanted me to be able to defend myself because in the kind of world I grew up in there wasn't any mercy for children. Me being able to handle a firearm correctly could have meant the difference between living and dying. Not just for me but the people around me as well. One more capable individual can make all the difference when it comes to a drug war." she supplied, the last time she saw her father-figure flashing through her mind at that last statement.

"I guess he also did it because he cared enough to. He wanted to give me a fighting chance at surviving. And now I'm doing the same for you." she concluded, her demeanor having taken on a nostalgic daze before she sapped back into the moment at hand and ordered for him to try again.

The empty click that signaled the end of his first round of failure made him drop his head in defeat. But it gave her the opportunity to teach him how to load a clip and properly slip a magazine into its well. She made sure to complement him on his correct stance, knowing he was quick to berate himself and get discouraged thanks to years of Walter's condescending comments about being a fuck-up. Giving him praise for every thing he did right, correcting him with a gentle tone when he made a mistake or forgot something. Patients was key when it came to teaching Mac something without making him feel like an idiot and hurting his ego.

_'Fuck. He can't even hit a bottle that's not moving or shooting back at him.'_  she worried silently, running her non-splinted hand through her hair anxiously as she watched him try.

After another clip was emptied without success she took pity on him and stood behind him, coaching with soft words in his ear and steady hands guiding him. His problem was made clear when he fired one off with her that close to observe it.

"Try shooting with both eyes open." she suggested, watching as he lined up again.

The sound of shattering glass made her smile before she realized that meant she owed him an explanation. Mac turned the safety back on, moving to sit in the Denali's open hatch back before looking at her expectantly.

"Wuts gotcha freakin' out?" he prodded when she didn't automatically spill the beans.

Kristy let out a defeated huff before taking out the rest of his missed targets and coming to sit next to him.

"When I made the recipe I was just doing the only activity I got enjoyment from back then. I had no idea it would turn out to be so…dangerous." she began, deciding to just tell him all of it and not drag something this serious out with a game of target practice.

"You already know what happened right before I came here." she continued, referring to her abduction and torture. "Those men who died that day weren't the head of their organization. There's someone higher up still out there running the show. And I'm sure they're not about to just give up looking for what they want."

"A couple weeks ago Walter tried to get me cooking again but I refused because

…I'm scared." she confessed, avoiding his gaze as she thumbed the handle of her gun. "I know they'll trace the drugs to us eventually if they haven't already and I didn't want to chance it."

"After what happened at your graduation it made me realize I'm an idiot if I think I'm safe just because I stopped cooking. People like that have ways of finding what they want no matter the cost."

Mac's eyebrows rose at the enormity of what she'd been keeping from him. He felt guilty that she'd been shouldering the burden alone to keep him peacefully unaware. He also felt like a fucking dumbass for not making that obvious connection between her past and the odd behavior she'd been sporting lately.

"Why don' ya jus give it to 'em?" he suggested, wondering why she hadn't just done that in the first place when she'd been captured.

She looked over at him with a sad half smile, shaking her head at his naivety, wishing it were that simple. If it was she would have written the damn instructions in blood and been done with it.

"Because I'd be dead as soon as I gave it to them. Their greed and desire for the recipe was the only thing keeping me alive." she corrected him, picturing a painful scenario with him giving up information under duress only to get a bullet in his brain when he believed the fuckers promising him freedom in exchange for what he knew.

"People like that don't leave survivors. It's too risky to leave loose ends blowing in the wind. That's why I'm freaking out. I can make it through what they would do to me. But if they found out about you…" she trailed off, panic constricting her chest again as her masochistic mind pictured the grisly atrocities that would be inflicted on him. "…if they got you I'd crack before they even made the first cut. I'd tell them everything they wanted to know so you didn't have to suffer…"

It was unnerving to see her so afraid, he could feel her shaking through the floorboard they were both seated on. She looked as though she had more to say but didn't want to admit it to herself.

"But after all I've cost them I don't think that would be the case. They'd…" she paused, struggling to say the words as her mind raced through all the things they'd do to them. "…they'd make me watch while they did horrible things to you. Draw it out for days before they let you die. Keep us where we can see each other but never be able to touch."

By then she was breathing hard, her voice breaking as she spoke. She couldn't bare to think about it any more. All the more reason for the precautions she was taking.

"How do ya know they wouldn' jus kill us after they got wut they wanted?" he wondered aloud, a little afraid to touch her with the murderous expressions taking over her face as her brain continued to picture it without her consent.

"Because that's what I would do." she admitted without shame, the coldness in her voice chilling him to the bone.

 


	16. Happy Tweaksgiving

 

 

 

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**Author's Note:**   _Sorry guys I've been off on a Sunlight Jr. bender. If you guys enjoyed Norm's character Justin from the movie I suggest checking out my new fic, White Trash Beautiful. (shameless self promotion)_

_Also, I'll be doing another author's answers video for all my fics in a while so send me your questions!_

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"Krys jus-"

"No! No. I've fucking had it with this pezzo di merda!" she growled, ripping the splint from her limb to throw it across the room.

"Aint been three weeks yet." he growled back, moving to snatch it up only for Haus to carry it away first.

"Two and a half is good enough." she retorted, flexing her free hand before setting out to search cabinets for the deep roasting pan she needed. "I can't do jack shit with it on, we'll end up eating at midnight."

Mac looked from her bent over figure to the dog that was whipping the cuff from side to side, tearing it to shreds. He threw his hands up in defeat, knowing this was one of the few things he wasn't going to get his way on. Clanging and growling was heard before she reemerged from her hunt empty handed.

"The pan for the turkey must be in the basement. If Dev- goddamnit Haus! Drop it!" she screeched, stealing the dog's newfound mess-making activity before she continued. "If Devon and Regina get here while I'm downstairs hunting, watch him with the food and tell him  _I said_ to start making the green bean casserole. And clean the mess your dog just made."

"I aint dipshit-Devon so cut tha nasty ass attitude. Else I'mma call tha whole thing off an spend tha day stuffin' yer turkey." he snapped, his innuendo making a smile crack through her surly demeanor as she headed for the stairs.

Holidays were perpetually nonexistent growing up with Walter. And once Krystal had gotten wind of that sad detail of his childhood, she'd made it her mission to give him all that he'd missed out on. Planning parties and cooking large amounts of food seemed to make her more than a little crazy but he knew she meant well.

She descended with steps creaking, the overhead bulb illuminating the musty sub level. It was Mac's meltdown cave so to speak, broken parts of old furniture littering the floor along with pieces of compressed charcoal and crumpled up pages of sketch paper. As she pulled more strings and light illuminated the walls she got sidetracked, walking the length of the concrete room, taking in Mac's sketched out madness.

The first time she'd seen the tweak sketches on his bedroom walls back at the slum shack he used to call home, she'd only noticed the spiders. But when she'd had time to inspect them further she'd found other creations buried in between the arachnids. Eyes peering out from pages, black horned figures, endless spiraling ebony circles and many other grim depictions. Some pages were just completely shaded black.

Stopping at one in particular that stood out against the wall of inner demons was that of a man hanging from a hook. The story that accompanied that particular sketch had been wept out against her shoulder one night after an especially violent nightmare episode. Though Rick wasn't a positive influence on him. Mac had found the half brother he only knew for a short few years to be the first family member to ever accept him and treat him as an equal. His death was a detail Devon had left out when it came to that notorious night in the cave.

She'd spent hours down there while he slept, trying to figure out any kind of meaning behind them, striving to help Mac with the nightmares plaguing him any way she could.

One wall stood out from the rest. Completely blank save for a single drawing. His work was hard to connect with real life objects thanks to the hurried unfocused motions he used. So when she'd realized she was scrutinizing a portrait of herself she was shocked. The figure in the sketch looked so strong, sharp angles giving her features more credit than they deserved. It made her wonder if that was how Mac really saw her.

Tearing herself away from her favorite Macsterpiece she began rifling through boxes. Finding the pan she needed just as Haus's barking and bounding paw-steps towards the door could be heard from up above.

"It's okay Regina, come on." she coaxed, knowing the timid girl wanted to help her pull the innards from the bird but was too afraid to walk past Mac. "You know he's not going to hurt you and if he sticks his dick in anything other than me he knows I'll cut it off." Kristy added, moving two of her fingers in a snipping motion to make Regina laugh and Mac shift uncomfortably.

There would always be a tinge of resentment towards Regina because she'd had relations with Mac, though forced. At first she'd downright hated the girl when she'd been informed. But as she found out more and his list of sexual conquests had grown to just about every female who used to reside in the town, she'd decided to let it go. The only ones left were the hookers and Regina, both of which knew damn well not to go near him.

The sandy-haired girl slinked by him, keeping her eyes on the floor until she made it to where Krystal had the fowl ready for disemboweling. She took Regina's hand in hers, guiding it into the bird's open cavity.

"You feel that?" she asked in a voice one would use with a child. "That's its heart. Now grab it and rip it out." she instructed softly, retracting her hand before moving to get a bowl to collect it.

She watched the girl tear the organ from the bird with a viciously excited gleam in her eye before she dove back in and went for the rest of its innards without instruction. Krystal suspected that given the right situation Regina would follow in her siblings murderous footsteps one day. She was already half insane. It was just a short leap from there. And with the way she was going at the turkey she obviously had some buried aggression inside her.

"Why do you want to keep its insides?" Regina asked once she was finished, looking down at bowl full of entrails curiously, her demeanor a bit more lucid than usual.

"I'm going to make turkey soup with them tonight." she told her, leaning over to look closer at her face to try determining where she was on the crazy scale at the moment.

Since she'd succeeded in convincing Devon to let up on his sister's forced regimen of heroine there'd been a few times here and there when she was actually normal. It could last a couple hours or a couple minutes so she didn't want to waste this episode. She had a question in mind designed to give Mac some more confidence when it came to his brother. She could be wrong but she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

"Reggie, who's better at fucking, Mac or Devon?" she inquired quickly, hoping she'd caught the girl in time, restraining a laugh when Mac started choking on the beer he'd just taken a swig of.

"Oh Jesus." Kristy muttered, moving to smack him on the back until he nodded his head that he was okay, the commotion making Devon and Walter look over from their football spectating for a moment.

"Come on, out with it. Who?" she prodded in a hushed tone, making the girl giggle mercilessly and turn a light shade of red.

Regina glanced over at Mac quickly before looking down at her feet, repeating the shy action a few more times with excessive giggles spilling out until she looked like she was ready to explode or have some kind of spastic episode.

"Mac is better at fucking!" she exclaimed for all to hear before ducking down behind the counter to sit on the floor.

"I knew it."

"What the fuck?"

"Damn right."

"Let that bitch have it son."

Responses were heard from all four of them almost simultaneously. Mac looked like the cat who ate the canary. Walter looked disgusted. Devon was getting up off the couch with obviously abusive intentions. And Kristy was moving to stand in front of Regina while laughing her ass off.

"God..ha..oh my god. Regina you weren't supposed to yell it out." she laughed, her humor still lingering as Devon rounded the counter and made to grab for the girl hiding in the corner behind her legs.

His face was beet red with embarrassment and Mac was loving every minute of it. Krystal pushed Devon back, thwarting him every time he came near them, trying to hold off Regina's punishment.

"It's not her fault, she didn't just blurt it out randomly. I asked." she admitted, turning the attempted assault into a game of keep-away as she kept pushing him back away from the Regina corner.

Something changed at her admission. Devon's gaze turned to her instead of the object of his anger, surprise taking over his features. Their bodies had been pressed together in a neutral way as she wrestled him away but now he was curling an arm around her lower back. Completely freaking her out. Krystal'd had a suspicion that Devon was gay aside from the thing with his sister, just a feeling she got from how he seemed in general. He just set off her gaydar for some reason. But now she knew she was probably wrong for once as the embrace turned sexual.

"You could have just found out for yourself." he suggested, getting a growl from his brother and a nauseous look from her.

Before Mac had a chance to grip him up she was shoving him away, a revolted look plastered on her face. She couldn't believe he'd actually just taken it there. But it made sense seeing as he'd just been humiliated and he was looking to get back at Mac. Even though he'd had nothing to do with it. Feeling Devon deserved a little more mortification and Mac a bit more ego boosting, she stood her ground while asking the girl behind her another question.

"Regina if you could choose who'd be fucking you tonight who would it be. Mac or Devon?" she demanded, getting more giggles from the corner and a murderous look from Devon.

A mumble from the corner that started with an M set Devon off again, this time with Mac moving in to protect Regina since he didn't want Krystal touching him again. When it started to get violent between the brothers she slammed a pan down on the countertop repeatedly until she got silence and the two men on the floor stilled.

"Enough fucking around. I need to get this bird stuffed and in the oven and you still need to make the casserole." she delegated, pointing the pan at Devon as she spoke, adding in a threat when he started to argue. "You shut your mouth and do what I tell you before I carve your ass up and stick  _you_  in the oven instead."

Richie came through the back door just in time to catch the last part of her demand for obedience, coming forward with wide fearful eyes as he held out a hand to help Mac off the ground. Mentally noting not to cross the woman wielding cookware.

With the disruption dispersed she snatched a bag of stuffing off the pantry shelf and began ripping it open. Only for a tapping on her shoulder to interrupt her.

"Can I go shoot sum target practice with Rich?" Mac asked like a little boy requesting permission to go outside and play, referring to the practice course she'd constructed for him in their backyard.

With rolled eyes and a huff she ordered him to get her purse. Producing the special set of keys that unlocked numerous gun cases through out the house.

"No automatics without me watching and don't let Richie touch anything." she sternly told him, hovering the keys over his open hand until he agreed.

"And make sure Haus is in the house, I don't need you bawling your eyes out because you thought your dog was one of the moving targets." she added at his retreating back on second thought, only to feel a glob of slobber land on her toes as she emptied the bag of stuffing cubes into a bowl.

"Oh, right. I forgot there's food around. I'll have you up my ass all day." she half heartedly snapped at the drooling canine that was eyeing the turkey with ambition.

"You an Kristy been together a while now huh?" Richie questioned, spitting a wad of brown saliva from the side of his mouth.

"Be halfa year at tha enda this month I think." Mac muttered, wondering if he was obligated to do something special, not remembering what exact day she'd bulldozed into his life to pinpoint an anniversary. "Why?"

"Jus wonderin'." he answered with a shrug. "You two fitten' ta get married soon then?" he inquired, making Mac jerk at the mention of the M word and miss his mark, cussing up a storm.

"Wut in tha hell'd possess ya ta ask a dumbass question like that?" he snapped, looking like he was about ready to use his friend for live target practice. "She put ya up ta this?" he asked with a hint of hope as he advanced on the man with a wild look in his eye.

"Naw man, no! I's jus curious is all." he claimed, holding his hands up to make peace. "Jus hopin' I could be yer best man if ya'll did." he confessed, fearing Mac would gut him thinking he had some kind of other intentions behind his questions.

A look of surprise mixed with disappointment crossed his face before he set the safety on the gun and bent to pick his beer up off the ground.

"Yeah, sure ya could. But it ain't gonna happen." he declared, dashing Richie's hopes.

"Why not? Ya scared a gettin' tied down wit tha 'ol ball an chain?" he joked, spitting out more chew residue.

"Nah. Krys jus don' believe in gettin' married." he offered with a rise and fall of his shoulders, taking a sip of his beer with finality.

The main course was ten minutes shy of coming out of the oven when Krystal heard a knock at the door and Haus went ballistic. Wiping her hands on the very grandma looking apron tied over her dress she peered around the corner to spot the one family member that hadn't been invited. After the way things ended in the bar between the two women she hadn't taken it upon herself to invite Arlene this time. Especially since Mac hadn't given any indication as to whether or not he wanted his mother there for Thanksgiving.

She tried to be sneaky about it but she was sure the older woman saw her running to the patio door thanks to Haus leaving his barking post at the front door to chase after her. Squeezing out so the dog was locked inside she sprinted over to where Mac and Richie were seated on an old couch drinking

"Mac your mom is at the door. What should I do?" she asked in a whispered yell, scared the old bat would hear her and come around to the back of the house.

"Wuts she want?" he asked plainly, peering around her form with that exact same fear.

"Hell if I know. She's probably wondering why the bar is closed and Walter's truck is in our driveway." she guessed, waving a hand towards the Luna Mesa.

"Do you want me to let her in or not?" she insistently asked, hopping from foot to foot as the cold ground stung her bare feet.

Mac gave a shrug and looked up at her with uncertainty, his real answer getting through to her silently. He didn't want to be the one to decide either way.

With a yell over her shoulder that dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes she headed into the house, feeling like her feet were dragging as she answered the door and held Haus at bay.

"Arlene, so glad you could join us." she chimed with false hospitality, standing back with the now growling dog's collar in hand.

Once Mac's mother passed by she let him go, giving him a few pets and a scratch behind his ear.

"I know you can sense the evil buddy. And I promise I won't punish you if you bite her." she cooed, finishing his rubdown with a light smack to his wiggling behind.

When Arlene had halfheartedly asked if she needed any help setting the table she'd declined, claiming Regina had it under control even though the opportune sound of glass breaking near the kitchen table claimed otherwise. Instead opting to ask she retrieve the gravy boat for her up in the cupboard.

Kristy turned around after depositing the swept up glass in the trash to find Arlene with an open tin in her hands.  _The tin_ she'd not bothered to lock the last time she'd given Richie his fix. She couldn't think of an adequate story in such a short few seconds as she lunged to snatch the box away. The best one being that the pink substance in little baggies was a special cupcake topper. Rather than give that lame explanation she put it away silently, moving one cupboard over to pointedly grab the utensil she'd asked for. By the time the food was on the table and everyone was seated Kristy wanted to shoot herself for organizing the family gathering.

All was quiet and peaceful as they ate. Aside from her reprimanding Mac about feeding the dog from the table. Only for her to catch Regina mimicking him.

' _Maybe I should have just let her stay scared of him.'_

When it looked like everyone was almost finished she decided to pull out a Thanksgiving tradition of her own. Something Joe had insisted they do every year even though it was just the two of them.

"We're going to go around the table and say what we're all thankful for." she announced, placing both pumpkin and apple pies on the table along with a tub of vanilla ice cream for dessert.

"Come on it's not that hard, I'll even go first." she grumbled in reply to the groans she got from a few of them.

"I'm thankful for pharmaceutical mood elevators, my good health, and Mac." she declared, raising her glass of wine to drink from after, elbowing Walter with her right arm for him to go next.

"I'm thankful for the whores not leaving town, my customers, and my son Devon." he toasted, making her fork disappear under the table for a painful moment in retaliation for not including his other son.

"I'm thankful for my dress, and the pool, and my soft night cuffs, and the pigs in the sky, and my big brother Devon, and Mr. Springer on TV." Regina finally concluded, adding another one once it popped into her damaged head. "And Mac's dick."

Kristy's head dropped to her hands with her elbows supporting them on the table while laughter shook her body at the fixation she'd started. When Regina's scream tore through the kitchen her head snapped up, pointing her fork hypocritically at Devon while she ordered that there be no stabbing at the dinner table. With that same utensil she motioned for him to go next.

"I'm thankful for the good health of my friends and family." Devon growled out, giving the generic answer since he was really only thinking of beating the shit out of Regina once they got back to the motel room.

"I'm thankful for cheap drugs and babies that survive abortions…er I mean abortions that actually fuckin' work." Arlene announced drunkenly, holding her glass out towards Mac before gulping down its red contents.

It was Richie's turn next but everyone was dead silent. Except for Regina who meekly reminded Krystal of the no stabbing rule before Devon clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Get. Out." Kristy growled lowly, her hand still clutching the fork shaking and very willing to break the stupid rule.

"Whaaat it's jus a little toast. The little bastard's still alive aint he?" she cackled, reaching forward for the wine bottle as she disregarded the girl's order.

Krystal shot up out of her chair, her heels pounding on the tiles as she made her way over to Mac's mother. She scuffed Arlene like the mangy flea bitten alley cat she was and violently ripped her from her seat. Forcibly pushing her towards the door while she continued yelling out belligerent excuses and curses. Trying to raise hell while the devil herself was kicking her out. The ratty coat that belonged to her was yanked off a rack on the way before she was thrown over the threshold and the article of clothing was tossed at her. Kristy slammed the door in her face so hard the rest of the guests were surprised the panes of glass in it didn't shatter.

More thunderous clicks sounded as she made her way back to the table while one of them dared to break the silence.

"Well I'm thankful not ta be that bitch." Richie commented, flinching when she stopped behind his chair, shying away in fear as she leaned forward.

He breathed an easy sigh of relief when she only grabbed up the bottle of wine and continued on towards the bedroom. Her shoes sounding out until she stopped half way and removed them from her feet, throwing them in a fit of rage before her journey ended in another slammed door.

"That'd be ma cue." Mac sighed, undoing the top few buttons of his dress shirt before slurping down the rest of the alcohol in his glass and heading towards the bedroom.

When Regina rose to follow him Devon yanked her back into her seat before realizing there was nothing stopping him from taking her home now. Walter followed after them, letting out a burp and unbuckling his belt before closing the back door behind him. Richie looked around the empty kitchen, shrugging his shoulders before leaning forward to cut himself a slice of pumpkin pie.

Mac opened the door without fear to find her dress and bra on the floor, leaving a trail over to the bed. Where he found her clad in a sweatshirt with her pretty hair snarled from being yanked down from its hairdo. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed with the bottle in her lap and the tv remote in hand.

"That's it. No more forced family parties. I quit. I'm done trying to make those assholes give you the love you deserve. It's just going to be me and you from now on." she ranted once she spotted him.

"And Richie too if you want to have him over." she added after taking a swig from the bottle, not caring as the comforter was stained by red liquid dripping off her chin.

Mac grunted in agreement, not happy that she was so upset and downtrodden. But thankful he would never be forced to endure family time again. When he reached for the bottle and got growled at he decided to get his own, telling her he'd be right back.

' _Fuck that stuck up cunt with her happy homemaker getup an her fancy silverware and her fuckin' homemade pies.'_

After Arlene snatched her coat from the ground she started walking. A smile coming to her ugly face as she pulled her phone from her pocket while making her way down the winding driveway.

"I got some new info. She got a lil bit a crank in her house an she put up security cameras all 'round the place." she informed the man on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, sure. I didn't get to go through the whole place but I can still probably draw ya a pretty good map of the general layout."


	17. Good Morning

  **Author's note:** _Fatal Formula got its 100th review on ff.net!_

_As a reward I give you all some Mac worshiping smut, it may be short but it's sweet, enjoy! :)_

* * *

 

"Ma-oof."

"….fuck." Kristy wheezed once she recovered from having one of his flailing limbs knock the wind out of her.

Just sleeping next to the man was a gamble every night. More often than not she woke up with fresh bruises in the morning. She didn't mind the nightly beatings so much as knowing he was being tortured by his own mind while he slept. She'd be willing to endure any amount of violence if it meant he'd sleep peacefully through the night. But sadly that wasn't a plausible deal she could just strike up with his subconscious.

"Mac wake up it's not real!" she hoarsely yelled, relieved when his eyes finally opened and he grabbed for her.

His smothering customary comfort position was taken up before he pretty much passed right back out. Trapping her underneath his body while heavy breathing that would evolve into snores rattled in her ear. This wasn't the way she'd been hoping to start  _this_  day. But she was happy whatever he'd dreamt of wasn't as severe as other times. It was a rare blessing when he was able to drift off right away. So she made the best of it, focusing on his warmth rather than the weight she was trying to breathe through. He was a shameless blanket-hog and his body heat felt like heaven compared to the shivering ball she'd been before his night terror woke her. When she felt saliva seeping onto her shoulder she knew it was safe to indulge in one of her favorite forbidden acts, turning her face into his ear, whispering softly.

"I love you…Jesus Christ I love you so fucking much."

Some tugging and squirming was needed to free herself from cuddle-jail when she woke hours later. Scraping dried drool from her skin as she watched him sleep for a bit she thought of her plans for the day. A plot that thickened as he rolled over and a telltale shape was outlined in the blankets. Giving her one more way to treat him today. She hurried to shower and cook a massive breakfast, hoping he wouldn't wake before she completed her usual morning list of things to do. Plus a few special extras.

She crept into the bedroom, grimacing when a floorboard creaked and his breathing changed a little. The tray clutched in her hands was carefully set on the floor out of sight before she slunk to the end of the bed, pulling up the blankets so she could enter at the foot of the bed.

Two feet in particular made her choke back a gag once she was enclosed in the sheets and trapped with their fowl odor. The stench of his rotting teeth she'd gotten used to without even noticing, but the feet were another story. She'd be fighting that battle with baby powder warfare till the end of time.

As she moved upwards while being careful to straddle his knees without touching him a toot sounded out and she was hard pressed not to abandon this plan and throw the covers off. Gulping in fresh air was extremely appealing. But so were the sounds she knew she could make him unintentionally release with her intended morning activity.

' _I'm going to fucking die down here before I even get him off.'_ she thought cynically, advancing on hands and knees towards the object of her conquest.

Mac was awoken by the most amazing feeling. It was startling in that first groggy second because Krystal, or anyone for that matter, had never done  _that_  to wake him up before. But as he relaxed and her mouth descended again he was very grateful for the surprise. Just about the only kind of surprise he liked.

He pushed back the covers to reveal her crouched over his lower half, her ass up in the air covered by the rest of the blankets, hair pulled back in a messy half dry bun. His favorite part of the whole scene was the way her dark eyes looked back at him with so much innocence while his cock was lodged in her throat. Like she'd been caught doing something bad by an authority figure. Frozen there with wide eyes until she needed to pull back and take a breath.

Since she'd never given a man oral before him, the first time he'd taught her how had been a painful experience filled with accidental teeth and ending in a lap full of vomit. Now she was excellent at it, able to take his entire length till her nose was buried in his pubes, capable of accomplishing the feat without gagging too badly.

Thoughts of her deepthroat training were washed away as another surprise-bomb was dropped on him. When he'd asked her to do it before she'd refused, telling him he'd have to shave in order for her to comply. Which made him briefly wonder what the special occasion was before the intense tingling in his ball sack made thought impossible.

She was keeping him on his toes through the entire pleasurable experience. Switching her technique quickly so he never got used to one sensation. She had him so wound up he didn't even think to hold back the noises she was forcing from him. His manly moans and groans turning into whines and whimpers as he got closer and she refused to let him come.

Kristy knew twisting hands and ballplay were some of his favorite moves but the holy grail of blowjob sensations for him was her scars. So when she left her straddling position to kneel beside him he just about lost his mind. The scar tissue in her cheeks felt great on the sides of his dick when she was in a traditional position. But when she moved so the soft ridges and bumps would massage the sensitive underside and top of his cock it was just pure heaven.

"Krys please." he whined when she only licked at his length, teasing him with the position but not giving him what he craved just yet.

She reminded herself that this wasn't meant to fulfill her deprivation kink and that her original intention had been to spoil him. With a sweet smile thrown up at his tortured face she puckered her lips, pushing her mouth down onto the head of his dick, keeping the hard suction he favored as she relaxed her throat and took him inside.

His toes curled as she slowly bobbed her head, making sure every inch got grazed by her scars each time, right to the tip before she sent it plunging back down past her vocal cords. A comment about "Puttin' that mouth ta good use fer once." made her smack his thigh and do her best to growl with his meat lodged in her throat. The vibrations making him fist the sheets and gasp, her anger prompting her movements to quicken.

After the shit he'd pulled weeks ago on the day of his grad ceremony she'd done some online research of her own. This was either going to freak him out or rock his world and she was hoping for the latter. She disguised her intention with more attention to his genetic legacy, massaging them in her palm as she continued the furious motions that were sure to make her neck ache later.

With a sideways glance she was happy to see his eyes were clenched shut and pointed skyward while his back arched a little and his head was smashed back against the pillow. It would be more likely that he enjoyed it if he wasn't watching to see what was coming next.

She could tell he was ready to blow thanks to the marbles in her hand shying away up to his body, his pants for air labored and quaint squeaks slipping out with difficulty. Nudging his sack aside while she continued her oral assault, her fingers reached for the patch of skin just before his anus, stroking softly while she searched for the firm spot she'd read about.

A particularly choked gasping noise told her she'd found it as his hips flew off the bed in an involuntary buck. She used her knuckle to rub his prostate in a circular motion, pushing into it as she pulled her head back to catch his cum in her mouth.

Mac didn't know what the hell she did but it felt like she'd pressed an emergency evacuation button linked straight to his balls. He was coming with so much force it felt like she was sucking the milky substance straight from his family jewels. Making him come with spastic thrusts of his hips, his body uncontrollable and wild thanks to the different kind of orgasm she'd forced out of him.

She watched him writhe on the bed, forcing his hips back down onto the mattress when he lost control. She'd read that it lasted longer for some guys when their special little spot was brought into play. But she almost began to worry as her mouth was filled to capacity and she was forced to swallow some of his load, his normal few seconds of ecstasy at least tripling in length.

By the time his body went limp it felt like his balls had been sucked dry and every nerve ending in his dick was on crack. He opened his eyes when she tapped on his leg, taking in the huge open mouthful of jizz she showed off before she swallowed and a proud smirk graced her cum coated lips. A lazy smile stretched across his face as he continued coming down from the blissful high she'd given him, unable to speak just yet. He twitched when she leaned forward and ran her tongue over his softening erection, extra sensitivity making him squirm as she lovingly cleaned him with light licks.

"Good morning!" she chimed once she was finished, laughing when his eyebrows rose and fell in silent agreement.

A horrible sound emitted from her that made his dazed eyes focused. Something akin to a cat hacking up a furball. He watched as she pulled a wiry sandy blond hair from the back of her throat, holding it up for him to see once she was finished fishing it out.

"This is why you need to shave your balls if you want me to put them in my mouth." she coughed, making him chuckle and wince when she pulled another one from between her teeth.

It felt like it took all his strength just to lean up and grab a hold of her arm, dragging her up towards him lethargically. She was rewarded for her mind-blowing trick with an unrestrained kiss, the taste of himself on her tongue not as off-putting as he would have imagined. He was actually quite disappointed when she pulled away and headed for her side of the bed. He was curious when she bent over to pick something up but too jelly-limbed to move.

When the same breakfast tray he'd used in his failed attempt was laid on his stomach and top plates were removed to reveal an array of still warm food he looked at her skeptically.

"There sumthin' I should know? Like 'm diein' er yer knocked up?" he questioned when he spied all different kinds of breakfast foods he liked.

In-between the first class blowjob and the gourmet breakfast in bed he was wondering what was wrong or what she'd fucked up to be pulling out all the stops this morning.

"No, I just wanted you to have a good morning." she insisted, grabbing the bowl of cut fruit she'd added for herself.

Mac watched her devour a couple strawberries before he decided to let it be. If there was something important he figured she'd say it. If not then he was inclined to lay back and enjoy himself.

"Why doncha feed me while yer at it since ya jus 'bout sucked tha damn life right outta me." he sweetly suggested with a jerk of his chin towards the tray, a shit eating grin spreading across his face when her eyes narrowed at his audacity.

He was bewildered when she actually complied and dangled a strip of bacon above his mouth, lowering it when he opened his jaws, winning a short game of tug-of-war when a piece of fat resisted as she pulled the rest away.

' _Shit if 'm diein' I'll die happy.'_ he thought as she continued to feed him, letting out a soft groan when she licked up some maple syrup that landed on his nipple.

Her angled brows rose in surprise at the noise. She'd never have thought men were sensitive there too. Filing that information away for later she resumed treating him like he was King Tut, enjoying the intimate time with him though the sheets were sure to be ruined thanks to drips and crumbs. Blissfully unaware that this happy time in their lives would soon come to a painful end.

Domingo paced the short length of the dirt floor hovel he'd been stuck in since his boss had ordered for him to supervise the operation. Weeks of sitting there doing nothing. Waiting on a phone call that didn't appear to be coming. He was sure the girl had gotten out of the game and would need to be captured on U.S. soil. Until his informant had told him about the box of meth she'd found in the girl's home.

It was still unclear to him how the woman had managed to get inside after all he'd heard about the girl. But that wasn't his problem at the moment. It was deciding whether or not to tell his boss the truth when he called for an update. If he did he might be stuck there for another month or however long it took the bitch to decide to call her deceased customer. If he didn't he could possibly persuade Rahul to let him go after her. But the second option came with the high risk of what would happen if his boss found out about the lie.

With a stroke of his mustache from his melted hand he decided boredom was better than death. Waiting longer with her so close was only making his intentions exponentially more cruel.


	18. Sweet Child O' Mine

 

"Richie please just keep him busy. The cake is almost done baking and then I have to frost and decorate it and then I have to get everything else ready. Do you think he'll be pissed? I mean…I don't know if he'll like his gifts." Kristy worried, scrutinizing the security camera monitors before her.

"What the fuck am I saying what man wouldn't appreciate butt sex and the truck of his dreams." she babbled nervously into the phone's receiver to the wide eyed grease covered recipient on the other end.

An irritated hand raked through her onyx hair at Richie's reply, her paranoid eyes still fixated on the screens while he made one of them twitch a little.

"Just make excuses and don't drive him up here until five!" she roared into the phone once Richie was done sputtering and whining about Mac already being suspicious of her leaving work early.

The phone's end call button was viciously stabbed with a fingernail once she was done screaming out her order. Mostly because Krystal was at her utmost level of perfectionalism today. But it wasn't just any occasion. It was the day Mac had entered the world after apparently surviving abortion. She wondered if Arlene had even helped push him out or if he'd had to fight his way out of her disgusting vagina.

She also wondered if the stupid crackwhore had gotten his date of birth correct. If he really did know his birthday and it wasn't today she was out eighty dollars. And looking like a dumbass celebrating the wrong day. Just one more pound of worry to weigh on her shoulders.

She'd been stressing out over what kind of cake he liked until she realized he'd never had a birthday cake before. That thought set her off in an uncharacteristic bout of unnecessary tears. Something that was probably linked to the strong emotional mood swings she'd been experiencing lately.

Wiping her face on her apron she chalked it all up to pms-ing and began spreading the butter cream frosting on the cooled cake. Pausing later with the pastry bag of red lettering icing in hand when she noted she still didn't know how old he was to write it in the sugary message. She decided to just go with the simple three word phrase, sucking a little bit of the frosting off her fingers once she was finished.

A paranoid glance at the clock told her she only had forty-five minutes left as she stuck an array of candles into her baked good. Probably less than that if Mac was bugging out as bad as Richie had said. A stressed out growl left her that made the dog she passed on her way to the bedroom cock his head in confusion. She was determined to have everything perfect for Mac's special day. Even if it gave her an aneurysm.

"Quit tryin'a bullshit me Richie I know she's upta somethin'. She don' jus leave work in tha middle a tha day fer no reason." Mac snapped, launching a screwdriver across the room as he continued his tantrum.

His rampage on the garage halted when a crushing thought crossed his mind. A deep insecurity he'd always had nagging at him whenever she was out of his sight. Even though she gave him absolutely no reason to be suspicious. The mind-blowing morning she'd given him raised more theories.

' _Maybe tha bitch did alla that shit dis-mornin' 'cuase she feels guilty.'_ he speculated, his face screwing up in anger, turning red with the hurt and rage flowing through him as he pictured Krystal with someone else.

"Ya think she's fuckin' 'round on me?" he asked the intimidated man who'd just spent the better part of two hours dodging his questions and thrown tools.

"Nah man, she fuckin' loves yew." Richie scoffed, his nervous shifting and glancing at the clock making Mac think otherwise.

He wanted to believe it though she'd never said it herself. Richie was usually a pretty straight shooter with him. He'd never caught him in a lie yet. But his insecurities won over the black winged butterflies in his stomach that his friend's comment created.

"Drive me over ta tha house. Now." Mac demanded, grabbing up a tire iron to chuck next if Richie refused.

Kristy looked over her shoulder in the mirror once more, idly wondering when her ass had gained its own orbiting moon. Looking over her scar riddled body, not caring so much about the marks but the shape. Her usual workout routine had been abandoned with the hectic life she'd taken up in Cainville. And now she was mentally paying the price.

It didn't help that she felt extremely ridiculous in the barely there getup. A few scraps of see-through material and some equally blood-red bows. The lingerie resembled the mammoth bow that still needed to be attached to the truck. The colors all tied together too. Right down to the crimson writing and decorations on his cake. She let out another sigh and turned around to face front, bodily insecurities she'd never had before that moment taking hold.

' _I should have went with the corset one.'_ she mentally growled, pushing her heavy breasts up with both hands before letting them drop back into their natural place, cursing when a nipple popped out from the bouncing action.

"Was that always there?" she worried aloud after moving to look at herself sideways, running her palm over the slight protrusion in her stomach.

Another paranoid glance at the clock told her that was enough body image torture for one day. She jammed a pair of stacked heels on her feet while hating herself for not planning this part out better. Venturing outside in December's snowy wrath in basically nothing to put the finishing touch on Mac's present was her last endeavor, though very unappealing. She allowed herself one final growl to let the frustration out before she snatched up the gigantic bow and headed for the bedroom door.

Mac's leg had been bouncing so hard the entire drive Richie feared he was going to slam his foot straight through the tow truck's rusty flooring. He didn't say a word though, too afraid to set him off again if he tried reassuring him of his woman's faithfulness.

' _Shit she's pullin' out alla tha stops fer 'em an he's fixin' ta rile himself inta a rage.'_ Richie internally sighed, thinking how sick it was that Mac couldn't even be away from her a couple hours without ending up like this.

He'd never see two people so…obsessed with each other before. He was fucked in the head himself but even he could see their level of fixation was unhealthy. Let alone the rest of the abnormal aspects of their relationship. Richie ended his musings with a shrug. If they were happy and still both alive then who the hell was he to judge?

As they rounded the last winding turn on the driveway Richie's stomach dropped. The misunderstanding playing out in his drug-hyper mind. This was not going to end well.

"See! I fuckin' told ya. 'M gonna kill 'em!" Mac bellowed, spit flying from his mouth as he took in the sight of a shiny red truck parked next to her Denali.

He was out of the tow truck's cab before Richie even stopped it, jogging along side it as he wrenched open a toolbox in the back and snatched up a hammer. Mac couldn't believe she'd actually do this to him.

For all his uncertainties and suspicions in that moment he realized deep down that he'd believed she'd never stray. That she knew better, knew her place and who she belonged to. The first person he'd ever trusted since he was a child had betrayed him. Things were never going to be the same after this.

Mac's first experience of romantic heartbreak was one of violent proportions to be taken out on the asshole's truck and then his skull. Flipping the tool around he used the clawed end to dig into the cherry red paint, yanking it along the length of the driver's side while ignoring Richie's yells.

Rather than have Mac destroy his own present Richie opted to re-direct his anger.

"Ya really gunna waste time wit tha fucker's ride when he could be balls deep inside yer bitch right now?" he questioned, pleased when Mac stopped his assault on the automobile and turned towards the cottage's door.

A new dilemma presented itself as he followed the irate man through the threshold. How was he supposed to keep Mac from killing Krystal before he realized there was no other man?

"Mac hold up. What're ya plannin' on doin'?" he asked hesitantly, risking it to pull on his arm and try getting him to stop.

Mac whipped around, hammer raised in his blind warpath, ready to murder the only friend he had in the world on reflex. Until one of Krystal's growls from the bedroom sent him back on his original course.

She opened the bedroom door with a distracted mind. Hoping Mac wouldn't outright laugh at her when he saw her in the lacey getup. She'd never actually  _tried_  to be sexy before. Seeing as it didn't take much more than a light summer breeze to get him going.

The sound of a male voice made her stop in her clicking tracks and look up from the silk string she'd been worrying on the bow. The sight before her made her stagger a little as she halted. Mac was stomping towards her, infuriation of a magnitude she'd never seen before showing on his face. An expression that turned unrecognizable as it struggled with confusion. His confusion getting quickly replaced with awe in a whip-lashing change of emotion as he stared at her.

"God damn it Richie you couldn't keep him busy for another two minutes!?" she screeched, flailing the decoration in her hand petulantly as she stomped her heeled foot.

Her small hissy-fit ended when she realized why her assistant for the endeavor was a little slack jawed and glassy eyed. With a embarrassed noise squeaking out she positioned the huge bow to cover her chest, using one of the long ribbon ends to cover what the see-through panties did not.

"You did your part. Get out." she growled, her eyes widening threateningly at him when Richie only stared at her.

The way she was barely dressed had Mac struggling to think. Her hair was done up in curled waves like the rich housewives on tv. Just the way he liked it when they went out at night. He could smell her from where he was standing, a sweet perfume she only put on for special occasions. And the outfit. He'd never seen her in something so provocative before and he was loving every inch of it from the garters to the band of lace covering her tits. If his brain were functioning properly he would have thought to push Richie out the door before he could spill the beans. Or continue staring at his woman in such risqué attire.

"S-sorry….I's just comin' in ta…ta make sure he didn' kill ya 'cause he thought ya were messin' 'round b'hind his back." Richie sputtered, pointing towards the hammer now loosely held in Mac's hand as he backed away.

He really did want his tool back but he wasn't quite sure how pissed off Mac was at him for letting him think Krystal was doing him wrong. Let alone allowing him to unknowingly damage his own property. Rather than risk injury from either half of the deranged couple he decided to get out while he could unharmed.

Kristy's 'ravish me red' painted bottom lip dropped with her jaw before the door closing sounded in the background. Her eyes shifted from his hungry gaze and relieved expression to the hammer. Which sported scrunched lengths of red automobile paint on its clawed end.

' _He_ would _fuck up his own birthday present. It's so..him.'_ she thought with a sarcastic laugh, throwing the bow aside onto a nearby couch.

"Happy Birthday!" she announced half heartedly with a rise and fall of her hands, a little put out that Mac had jumped to the conclusion that she'd been doing something so horrible.

"I see you've already found one of your presents." she muttered in an irritated tone, jerking her chin towards his occupied hand with a reprimanding look.

Mac had enough sense to look ashamed after he winced. Though he was still having trouble processing the turn of events. He was beyond happy that his theory had been wrong. And he was confused because as she'd guessed, he didn't have a birthday to speak of as far as he knew. He was completely blindsided by this. He didn't know what to say and it was quite clear as his lips parted but no sound came from them.

Rather than bitch him out for having so little faith in her like she wanted to Krystal made the first move. Stepping forward with a sultry pace. Pausing when she was right in front of him. Winding her arms around his back to pull him in and hold him. She wasn't going to yell or lecture him on her loyalty. She was just going to hold him tight and hope her embrace afforded him some reassurance.

"I made you your favorite for dinner and a cake too." she told him with her cheek pressed against his foul smelling coveralls once his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Now that she did mention it the smell of steak and baked batter hung in the air to accompany her perfume. He was starving but he was hungrier for something else. A craving the hardening length in his pants demanded be satisfied.

"Ya said presents. Where's tha rest?" he inquired like the bratty birthday boy she'd expected him to be.

Kristy didn't want to give him  _that_ just yet because honestly she was still freaking out about it. But then again the entire theme of the day had been to spoil Mac rotten. So she ignored the nervous rapid pounding in her chest and leaned forward to capture his lips. The sound of the hammer dropping to the hardwood sounded as he abandoned it to tangle his dirty hands in her dark hair, fisting it at the roots to make her hum approvingly into his mouth.

One hand left her locks to grab her ass, pressing her into the straining need behind his work clothes. That hand left her backside just as quickly as he reached between them to yank the zipper of his suit down, eager to get the layers of material between them gone. She broke their connection to move her ruby tinted weapons downward, her tongue slipping out to sample the taste of lingering sweat and dirt on his skin. The salty taste filling her mouth as she attached her lips to the spot on his neck that held a scar from the pearly teeth following behind them.

"Bedroom." she growled out when he started shrugging out of his coveralls, the manipulating teasing she was doling out on his pulse point making his motions jerky and uncoordinated.

"Nah right here." he demanded, not knowing what she really had in store for him.

She had to shove with all her might to be free of him, turning on her heel quickly before he could grab her. She threw him a smoldering look over her shoulder before prancing towards the bedroom with swaying hips. Hoping she didn't look like a waddling duck instead of a sexy tigress teasing him with her hind quarters. She figured she'd gotten the walk right when pounding boots sounded behind her. His step hurried and excited, eager to open his second present as his eyes zoned in on the ribbon tie holding her top together between her shoulder blades.

Mac watch as she paused at the bedside table, wondering what she had hidden inside, the suspense making his dick twitch in the coveralls that'd pooled at his hips. A familiar bottle of lubricant was pulled out, making his eyes widen at the implication. A smile stretched across her face when she turned around and took in his expression. When his eyebrows rose in silent hopeful question she nodded with a shy grin, handing the bottle to him before turning around and lifting her hair.

"Unwrap me." she breathily encouraged, waiting until she felt a tug at the silk tied behind her back and the lace concealing her hardened peaks fell to the floor.

She didn't even have to suggest he undo the sateen bows at her hips. For having never unwrapped a present before he sure was doing it efficiently. Before she knew it he was kneeling down, taking one of her ankles in his encircling hand, slipping the pump from her foot before dragging a sheer thigh high and garter down with it.

The apprehensive tightening in her gut returned when she was fully naked and steel toed boots were being kicked off across the room. One leaving a print on the wall that made her roll her eyes. The momentary annoyance was quickly replaced with anxiety when hot skin molded to her back, a hardness pressing into her butt cheek as his mouth attacked her shoulder. When she heard the cap to the bottle pop off she panicked a little, turning around to face him.

"Will you fuck my pussy a just little bit first?" she pleaded, looking up at him through her mascara lengthened lashes. "Mac please, it just feels so good." she half moaned half whined, happy when her pouting got an permissive nod and a confident smirk in answer.

Mac herded her towards the bed with bruising kisses, pushing her back with his mouth until she was trapped in between him and the mattress. He spun her around and nudged her forward until she was on her knees at its edge, taking his base in hand as he leaned into her. The first stroke was always the best aside from the end. That first sensation of her body stretching to accommodate him. Gripping him, her muscles twitching like they wanted to pull him in.

He took it slow, sliding the head of his cock along her slit, coating himself in her wetness. Making sure to spend a few seconds grinding into the hardened little spot in her outer folds that made her jump. After a groaned out "please" and a desperate look thrown over her shoulder at him he pushed inside, letting out a groan of his own as his dick was engulfed in tight fiery welcoming heat. He stayed there for a second, appreciating the sensations running through him for a moment before he withdrew almost completely and gave her what she craved. The harsh rhythm that would make normal girls cry and scream in pain.

The whimpered out little "thank you"s he got for indulging her made him grin as he pounded into her, his hand smacking hers out of the way to replace it when she tired to rub her clit. His eyes rolled back a little when she was aroused sufficiently for him to get that last inch inside her, that back wall giving him enough room to be inside her fully. He was still amazed she hadn't been permanently stretched out with all the abuse her poor cunt endured from him.

That thought made his mind wander to how unbearably tight her ass would be. Her pussy was already so compact sometimes his dick ended up bruised when they were through. He couldn't even imagine the painful pleasure her rear entrance had to offer.

Hoping to lessen the discomfort to come for her Mac squeezed out some lubricant in a rare gentlemanly act. Stilling his hips so he could hit his mark with it before he continued with slower thrusts, angling his hips so he could hit  _that_  spot inside her while his thumb began pushing in.

Krystal gasped out in pain when his appendage started making its way inside her. She was grateful he was trying to prepare her but she hadn't been expecting the thickest one on his hand to come first. She suspected this was new territory for him as well when he paused at the noise.

Not anal sex, she was sure the ten dollar whores around there were too used up for him to enjoy their cunts. But rather, being careful. Taking his time to try and ease the pain for her. She was sure he'd never done anything like that for anyone else. So even though it hurt like hell she appreciated the sentiment.

After a while she got used to it just like the first time, the stinging of his moving finger getting drowned out by the enjoyable feelings his dick was sending through her with every nudge to the right place. She'd never understand how he did that, like his dick had a G spot GPS built right into it. But she wasn't going to question a good thing, especially when his other hand resumed its place in front of her mound, expertly bringing the sounds he wanted from her.

Her noises always changed when she was close, so high pitched they boarded on breaking glass. His name drawn out like a screech. Her pants ragged and short. He wanted to reach forward and turn her head to the side so he could watch her expressions. But it was too late. She was already clamping down on him and going rigid with her face pressed into the sheets. Pulsing waves making him push in to the hilt so he could enjoy the borderline painful massage her body gave his dick while she came.

Half way through he couldn't stand it. He had to rip himself from her body lest her greedy walls suck his end right out of him. He didn't want to start all over again. He wanted to be close when he claimed her ass so he could have mercy on her and come quick. Mac enjoyed the sight of her spasms, watching as her insides clenched and released until she was finished.

He allowed her a moment to rest before withdrawing his thumb and grabbing hold of her hips, lifting her rear end up until her collapsed knees were able to support her again. Mac squeezed a generous amount of liquid into his palm, slathering his cock in it before re-applying more to her puckered hole. Making her swallow a thick lump of dread. She saw the sense in his urgency. It was probably best to do it while her body was still forcibly relaxed from orgasm. But she still pushed a hand back against his hip when she felt the head of his dick at her resistant entrance.

"I can't believe I'm saying this and I probably never will again. But for the love of god please try to be gentle." she requested as she looked back at him, well aware of the hilarious irony of asking him of all people to be gentle.

Mac nodded in understanding, a small goofy smile stretching his thin lips that mirrored her as the same sardonic thought ran through his head.

"We don' gotta do it again after tha first time if ya hate it." he offered, pushing without warning, watching her face screw up in pain before she buried it back in the mattress.

They were both cursing up a storm by the time he'd pushed the entire head past the muscles giving him a hard time. Though each one had the coarse words spilling from their mouths for very different reasons. She was trying her hardest to not let on to how much it really hurt so he wouldn't feel bad. With all her masochism she was confused as to why she wasn't enjoying this kind of pain. It irked her really. That the one time it could have worked to her advantage, her kink was nowhere in sight.

Mac was a little unsure as he continued. The pressure on his dick was more than he was used to, more painful than he usually liked. But at the same time it felt so good. And different. The new and unfamiliar territory was what really kept him going. Knowing he was somewhere inside her no one else had ever been. That psychological factor was what was turning him on the most as he pushed more of his length inside her.

When it was the end of the line and he had no more to give he began pulling back slowly, only for her sob for him to wait make him halt. She sounded distressed and in serious pain, a hysterical edge lacing her voice that he'd never heard before. He leaned forward, aiming to wrap his hand around hers, the knuckles white as the sheet clenched in her fist. When he did so, pressing his chest against her back, he froze. Rhythmic silent shaking tremors were vibrating into his skin.

"Ya cryin'?" he asked with a little bit of unintentional disbelief in his voice, the hand headed for hers making a detour to stroke her hair.

"Fuck off." she growled at him, taking his question the wrong way like he was making fun of her for not being able to take it.

"You couldn't possibly have any idea how much this fucking hurts." she spat, sucking in a deep breath before she snapped at him to just get on with it.

Kristy braced herself for the pain but it didn't come. He didn't moved aside from his forehead dropping to her back. After a few seconds she felt two shocking sensations. His penis softening inside her, rapidly shrinking. And hot tears hitting the skin covering her spine.

" _No son a mine is going to be soft. I'm gonna pound the pussy right outta you pretty-boy."_

His father's words right before it started that night echoed through his mind as his shamefully ruined erection slipped from her on its own accord.

He'd never wanted her to know. He didn't even need to say it and she knew. He could tell just by the look on her makeup smeared face after she rolled over under him, renewed trails of black rolling down her face as she cried for him.

His natural reaction was to violently rip himself away from the person who now knew his darkest secret. The thing he viewed as the most disgusting aspect about himself. Even though he'd had no control over the situation. He reverted back into his old self, keeping no regard for the injuries he was causing trying to get away from her embrace.

Mac slammed his fist into her face, making the fingers digging into his skin let go out of pure shock. He hadn't hit her like that in so long it took her a couple seconds to get her bearings. Ignoring the blackness overtaking her right eye's sight she wobbly stood up on the bed, taking a leaping jump in the hopes that it would knock him down and stop his escape.

Locking her arms around his neck she squeezed, trying to put him in a proper sleeper hold while he flailed and yelled, using her legs around his middle to keep on his back when he tried to shake her off. Thankfully he fell backwards rather than forwards onto his face, landing on top of her and effectively knocking the wind out of her while she still struggled with him.

Her loss of air afforded him a second of release that was short lived before her arms were back, trying to choke the life out of him.

"No!" she growled, refusing to let him go, refusing to let him shut her out in this time of vulnerability.

Like a mother holding her child down for a vaccination Krystal choked him out for his own good. Keeping it up until he was unconscious. She kept her arms in place without applying pressure for a few seconds until she was sure he wasn't just faking. Rolling him off so she could breathe freely she looked over at his limp body sadly.

She hated herself for not keeping her sobs of pain still while he'd been inside her. If she could do it over again she would have bitten a pillow and just taken it instead of having this happen. On a day that was supposed to be filled with happiness and fun no less. She couldn't help but feel responsible for ruining his first birthday.

Kristy drug him up along the bed, laying him out with his head on his pillow before getting behind him and resuming her earlier position. Circling her arms around his chest instead of his neck before reaching up to smack his face until he came to.

"Just stop. I'm not letting you go." she hissed when his struggles continued again, the heel belonging to the leg curled around his hip coming to rest on his groin threateningly.

Mac went still with defeat after a few more minutes of trying to fight her comfort. More involuntary tears streaking down his face as he finally pushed his body back into her, letting her cradle him while he went to pieces. It wasn't just the memories being brought back and the shame of someone knowing. He couldn't understand how she would ever see him as a man now that she knew. Or how he would ever feel like one again in her presence.

Eventually their tears stopped and they laid there in silence for a long while. The sunlight disappearing slowly as hours passed and she held him. A few times she had to remind herself who she was touching when her grip would tighten in anger while she thought and planned. While she couldn't stop her mind from picturing the little boy she'd memorized from her cherished photo. While she pictured it all.

His screams and cries for help while he was violated. The tears and snot running down his face while he was ripped apart. The way his little body had probably shaken from the trauma of each thrust. The pain he'd undoubtedly been in for countless days afterwards. He was lucky he'd survived the internal damage his insides had no doubt endured without medical treatment.

She knew Mac would never want it spoken of after this. And she had so many unanswered questions. How many times had it happened? Once or hundreds of times until Mac was big enough to defend himself? What  _exactly_  had happened?

She supposed it didn't matter and it wasn't worth it to upset him further.

Guilt was irrationally eating away at her. She'd probably been just an infant at the time it happened. But she still longed for a reality where she could have been there to save him. She briefly let herself imagine a fantasy of bashing Walter's head in with a bat and scooping the terrified blond child up in her arms. Taking the sweet little boy away from this horrible place and giving him the childhood he deserved. Giving him a life full of happiness, good experiences, and love. The way a child is supposed to grow up.

Her uninjured eye stared wide into the darkness as gruesome future scenarios played out in her head. Plans for painful revenge and details of what she would need for each route of torture she constructed as options. Each one becoming more horrific than the last as hours passed in silence.

"I'm going to make sure he pays for what he did to you." she whispered against the back of his neck, unsure if he was even awake to hear her deadly promise.

Mac knew she would do what he'd daydreamed about for years. What he could never bring himself to do to the only parental figure he'd grown up with.

"Jus…don' kill 'em." he murmured back, gratitude flowing through him as she squeezed him tighter.

Like she wanted to squeeze the memories and lifelong damage right out of him and replace them with positive things.

"If that's what you want I wont. But he will wish you'd let me by the time I'm finished with him." she vowed, bringing a hand up to stroke his hair as a sick smile curled the lips resting against his skin.

_Her hair reminds me_ _of a warm safe place w_ _here as a child I'd hide a_ _nd pray for the thunder a_ _nd the rain t_ _o quietly pass me by_  
 _He's got eyes of the bluest skies a_ _s if they thought of rain_  
 _I hate to look into those eyes a_ _nd see an ounce of pain_

_Hoooooh woah ho Sweet child of mine_   
_oh woah oh oh Sweet child of mine_

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Chapter eighteen's theme song is located here [[ X ]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r50fFRCtknc)

 


	19. Haunted Wedding Planning

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**Author's**   **Note:** _I'd intended on having this chapter done and posted the day after my Maciversary (May 1st (The one year anniversary of the day I found Mac ( I was actually looking for Floating fan fiction but found the Red Canyon section instead) but another one of my cats, Erica, was dying and had to be put down so I didn't get around to writing it. I know excuses excuses right? I finally got it done so here you go. Thank you for all your reviews and views!_

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Neither of them slept really despite Krystal's best efforts to rub Mac's back until he drifted off. As the black of night gave way to the light grey of pre-dawn one question remained stuck firmly in the forefront of her mind. One she felt that wasn't too intrusive to let slip past her lips.

"Why didn't you tell me." she softly croaked, her unused vocals making the question gravely and hoarse.

Still silence and then a shrug was all she got. She was willing to settle for that, resigned to put the subject in its eternal grave. Until he let out a long sigh.

"Didn' think ya'd still wanna fuck me if ya knew." he mumbled out against his now dried pillow, pressing himself back against her needily as he admitted it to her.

She let out a scoff and rose up on her elbow to look over his shoulder at him. Forcefully turning him over so she could look at his face and he could see the small smile on hers.

"You're kidding right? You gave me herpes, gonorrhea, and a whole mess of other shit and I still want to fuck you." she snickered, making an unexpected smile pop onto his face as he remembered the horror of the clinic staff who'd treated them.

He'd broken their record for number of sexually transmitted diseases treated in one patient at one time. A title he was actually kind of proud of. It amazed him how she always did that. Even with this extreme situation she was working her magic, making him feel better.

Kristy laid back down, resting her head on his chest while draping her arm back around to hold him tightly. She didn't really know how to ask the next one she wanted to ask. Though it was a much safer subject she was still uneasy to bring it up. She'd thought of a million ways while they'd laid there in darkness. All the words she'd use and the arguments she'd present. She thought it was best to start talking. Laying there thinking about it wasn't going to get her any closer to an answer.

When she started to move away from him he clung to her right away, fingers digging in to leave bruises.

"It's okay, I'm just turning on the light." she reassured him, stretching to turn on the one remaining bedside lamp, illuminating them in a soft yellow glow.

She turned back looking at him with one eye blurry and partially swollen shut. He looked back at her, raising a hand to touch the purpled skin, and apologetic look raising his eyebrows.

"Stop, it isn't that bad." she lied to ease the guilt, taking in his features until he got uncomfortable and turned his face away.

She kept looking at him, scared of what his reaction might be. How harmful to himself and eventually them both his answer might be.

"Mac I need to ask you something." she began, getting him to look back over at her. "I've been think about it for a while now. Even before your mother showed up in town."

Kristy fidgeted a little, pausing to look down at her hands for a moment. Mac was intrigued. She didn't fidget or pussyfoot around when she had a question. She demanded to know what she wanted to know with a cool demeanor and no problem asking.

"When things get hot you're supposed to wipe your DNA and leave the setup. You're the only reason I stayed here once we had to shut down." she rambled, starting with one of her middle points of argument, her prepared speech going to shit as she got nervous.

"And now with this." she added, waving her hand around the room in reference to what she'd learned. "This place has nothing but bad memories for you. And we can't really do what we need to do here with all the new tourists in town and there could be people looking for me…"

"Mac will you leave with me?" she finally blurted out, the question opening a flood gate of words as she desperately tried to convince him.

"We can go anywhere you want. You could go to college." she offered, backtracking when he made a flat face at the suggestion.

"Or not, you don't have to go to college if you don't want to. We could travel. I'll take you to Europe and show you the Eifel tower in Paris, and the Acropolis in Athens. If you don't want to travel we could just move to a seaside villa in Italy. Or we could stay in the U.S. if you want, we don't have to go to Europe. We could go to New York and see the Statue of Liberty or move into a penthouse there. We can do whatever you want." she chattered, getting animated with hand gestures while she despairingly tried to paint the picture of the future that would make him say yes.

The only reason he'd never left before was because his circumstances had made it impossible. Now that he had her, he had everything he needed. Mac had an answer and was ready to give it to her, only to be cut off as she continued to try persuading him. Addressing the main reason he hadn't left before and really the only question of worry he had about this decision.

"I'll take care of you. You won't have to work or do anything you don't want to. You'll never have to worry about money or us getting by or anything like that. We can bring Haus. And you'll never have to see Devon or your mother or any of your family ever again." she vowed, particularly careful not to say his father's name.

Kristy looked like she was half way to a panic attack by the time he forcefully made her shut her mouth. His hand shooting out like a striking snake, fingers curling around her jaw as his palm pressed harder to muffle out whatever she was trying to bait him with next.

"Ken we jus geta place out in tha country somewhere?" he simply asked, watching as her eyes watered up and she nodded her head vigorously.

He could feel her smiling behind his hand, the rough tissue of her scars dragging against his skin as they moved with the happy gesture. Kristy tackled him once her face was released, straddling his lap while capturing his face between her hands. Peppering it with kissed as she thanked him in between each one and he flailed to get away from the excessive lovey-doneyness.

While he had her in his debt so to speak he decided to press for what he'd requested once before and been denied. Yanking his face away to look up at her while he did it.

"I'll leave with ya if ya marry me." he asserted with a cocky grin and a jerk of his chin at her, watching as she sat back on her heels and his stomach.

Marriage didn't hold the traditional meaning for Mac. What was supposed to be the loving union of two people in holy matrimony. He saw as the one last way he could claim her. A public proclamation that he owned her. A wedding ring on her finger to tell the world she was taken and belonged to someone, in a socially acceptable manner. A band that if he had it his way, would have been a metal collar around her neck instead. That's what marriage meant to him. Nothing more.

"You don't need a piece of paper telling you so for you to know I belong to you." she huffed, her demeanor souring as he gave her his stipulation and showed he wouldn't be swayed with a petulant cross of his arms.

In her opinion marriage was a pointless act. If you were with someone for life then you were with them. End of story. But she knew why Mac wanted it done and it made her roll her eyes, leaving them stuck on the ceiling as she thought.

"No white dress. No ceremony. No reception. Just you, me, the judge, and two witnesses at the court house. That's it." she finally snapped out, squealing when she was swiftly rolled over and pinned on her back.

"No bullshittin'?" he demanded with suspicious narrowed eyes, thinking of the countless fights he'd already lost over the matter.

"No bullshitting. I'll marry you." she promised, a weary smile breaking out as a large one spread across his face.

"And I'm not taking your name." she added, making his mouth drop down into a frown.

"Bu-"

"No. Absolutely not. I'm not going to be a Garcia the rest of my life, the way I see it it's your father's last name. Not yours." she explained while an idea she doubted he'd go for popped into her head.

"Technically you could have been a Bradly you know. If you'd taken your mother's name." she suggested, not surprised when his already thin lips flattened into a stubborn line. "Alright forget it, we'll just keep-"

"Wuta bout a new name? People change ther names all tha time." he suggested, making her eyebrows fly up in surprise.

She liked that idea. A new last name that was just for them. Untainted and not tied to painful memories or the people who caused them.

"That's an excellent idea." she agreed, reaching up to snare her arms around his neck and bring him down for a kiss, making him silently radiate pride.

Kristy was enjoying the texture of his taste buds sliding along the roof of her mouth when he abruptly pulled away, rushing to get out of bed and throw on the same dirty coveralls from yesterday. Making her shake her now flattened curls at him.

"What are you doing? I'm having Richie close down the shop because I need his help with my plan." she informed him, confused when he continued getting dressed.

Normally when Mac found out he was excused from work he remained in a pair of rumpled boxers or less for the rest of the day.

"Let's go get hitched right now." he demanded, throwing her one of his worn tee shirts and a pair of sweats for her bridal wear.

She let out a short laugh, holding up her hands for him to stop. Not happy that he was forcing her to admit this.

"Getting married is last on the list of shit we need to do to get out of here. A marriage license costs money. And I'm kind of broke." she confessed, watching as he stopped and gave her a wide eyed "What!?" look.

"Ya jus said I'd never haveta worry bout us gettin' by. Whadya mean broke? " he questioned, visibly deflating as his excitement to get her under legal lock and key was turned to panic.

She scrunched her brows at him in a disbelieving look before she had the urge to squeeze the life out of a stress ball.

"Mac it wasn't cheap to buy this house from Ravis. Not to mention monthly bills. Food and fun expenses. The money I came here with is gone along with what I made while cooking for dickhead. A waitress and mechanic's salary doesn't exactly cut it for the way we live." she explained, keeping her dark eyes on him as he sat at the edge of the bed and listened.

"And like I said, you don't have to worry. I've got it handled. After I deal with your father I'm going to cook an order and sell it. Then we'll pack up, get married, and leave." she reassured him, watching as he sat silently and thought.

Mac was surprised she was willing to open up shop again with her extreme paranoia about being found. But if they were broke it sounded like a pretty good plan. He was consumed with cravings and thoughts of her sweet sweet product before his mind jumped back to the first order of business on her agenda.

"Wut're ya gonna do to 'em?" he quietly asked, looking down at his cracked and calloused grease stained hands.

"Horrible things." she assured him, her voice dropping in sadistic tenor as she still flip-flopped in between the two final choices of pain she'd whittled all her options down to during the night.

"You can be there while I do it." she offered, getting a slow shake of his head in response.

"Jus tell me bout it when yer done." he decided, choosing not to be present when his father was finally held accountable for what he'd done, not able to bear facing him while she did it.

She crawled next to him, laying her naked body against the soiled material covering him, trying to lend comfort as his mind no doubt wandered to dark places.

"How ya gonna do it?" he inquired, making her perk up as he requested her plan.

"Well I'm going to kill two birds with one stone and act like I want to start up the business again. Once I've got him alone in his office tonight and I have the contact info for the Mexican buyer I'll knock him out. Or chloroform him. Or taser him. I'm not sure about that part yet but I'm kind of leaning towards choking him out. And I haven't completely decided on his punishment yet either but I can guarantee he'll wish you'd let me kill him." she summarized, happy to see a small amused smirk appear on his face as he looked over at her.

"But I know for sure I'm going to need a medical table, hopefully one with restraints. Along with some surgical tools. And it just so happens there's an abandoned asylum fifteen miles outside Freemont county." she elaborated, surprising him with how quickly she'd organized the details.

"Which is why I need Richie for bitchwork. So just stay home and relax while I take care of things today. Matter of fact if you feel like it, start thinking up last names or look online for some possibilities." Kristy suggested, shifting him into a better mood as he was reminded of their upcoming nuptials.

Mac shed his work clothes while she did the opposite, gearing up for the day ahead. As he crawled back into bed and flipped the tv on with the smell of breakfast cooking following soon after, a semi-permanent smile was plastered on his face. For once in his life he was excited for the future.

"I mean cummon aint this against tha law?" Richie sputtered as the Denali lurched over bumps and rocks littering the overgrown private drive that lead to the place she'd read about online.

She threw him a "What the fuck?" look before her head was jerked by another dip in the path.

"You're fucking kidding me right? Since when are you a law abiding citizen?" she snapped, scowling at him in disbelief.

She'd had to bribe him with the last of the stash to get him to come along. Now she had to deal with a hopped up superstitious tweaker jumping every time the wind blew.

Said tweaker had his face pressed up against the glass as they finally pulled up to the large ominous building. His dirty face leaving a smudge on the window as he snapped around at the sound of her door opening, panic bugging his eyes out.

"Tha spirits aint gonna take too kindly ta us takin' their shit." he insisted as he followed Krystal around the open back hatch where she was selecting a flashlight.

"The spirits Richie? The spirits? Really?" she growled after a deep sigh, shoving one of the huge lights into his chest before pushing

him towards the ajar grand double entrance doors.

When he stopped at the threshold and refused to enter she counted backwards from ten uselessly as her irritation only heightened.

' _This is some straight up Regina bullshit right here.'_ she thought, cynically noting that if something happened to Devon the two would make a nice crazy couple.

Without a word she extracted a switchblade from her boot and put an ironclad hold on his arm, forcefully pushing his sleeve up before she quickly sliced him. A few droplets of blood stained the light layer of snow coating the doorstep while he screamed. Kristy ignored his yells of pain as she slammed the open wound against the Asylum's door, squeezing out more blood while she smeared it on the rotting wood like a human paint roller.

"There. They've been paid with a blood sacrifice. Problem solved." she tersely bit out as she tried to placate his brand of crazy, releasing his arm as she motioned with a wave of hers for him to go first.

He looked up at the building uncertainly, hesitantly nudging the bloodied door open further with his foot to peer inside. Only to be pushed head first into the black abyss by the impatient women behind him.

Kristy didn't waste time gawking like most people would while exploring an abandoned place. She marched from room to room as she searched with the scaredy-cat right on her heels. Sometimes even clinging to her arm when sounds emerged from unoccupied rooms. She had to admit that a couple times a chill went up her spine. It was a creepy place. But there wasn't any time for ghost hunting. She wanted to get the equipment out to the cave and set up before nightfall so she could be back in time to cook dinner for Mac.

"So how'd yer night go." Richie hesitantly asked, partially referring to the fresh shiner gracing her face and trying to distract himself from the feeling of being watched.

"Not good. Some unforeseen events made it into a train wreck." she muttered sourly, her flashlight illuminating a rat scurrying towards them along the hallway.

"Well shit that sucks." he commented, whipping around when he felt the illusion of a phantom hand pulling at a piece of his long greasy hair.

"Mac got sum kinda nurse fantasy yer tryina set up with this shit ya need?" he inquired when they continued to move along in eerie silence.

That one actually made her laugh out loud. And wonder what fantasies Mac did harbor. They hadn't ventured into that territory just yet because they were still fucking like honeymoon rabbits. But the notion definitely piqued her curiosity.

"No. This setup is for someone who needs to learn a hard lesson." she sinisterly told him, making him shy away from asking further questions with her tone of voice.

They found a wheelchair on the first floor that would suit one path if she chose it. Which was begrudgingly escorted to the car by the both of them when Richie begged not to be left alone or forced to take it out to the car by himself.

"For looking like a real badass, you're kind of a pussy." she noted as they took a quick break, blowing her smoke out while she looked up at him.

It was always a hoot watching Mac push around a guy who was twice his size. But this was just downright embarrassing. And he knew it judging by the reddening of his face, the downcast position of his eyes, and the shrug of his shoulders.

The second floor held nothing of use. Just a lot of graffiti and empty wards. A few critters comically scaring the shit out of Richie here and there. When it came time to search the basement he put up a fight again.

"Jesus what do you want, a fucking Scooby snack?" she snapped, digging her claws in as she shoved him forward by his shoulder, threatening to push him down the stairs if he didn't get going.

The musty smell of earthy rot met them as they descended into a corridor of rooms. All with metal doors and small windows allowing a view in or out.

"This musta been where they put tha real psychos." Richie whispered, making her think of how she could have very well ended up in a room not unlike each one they passed.

At the end was a worn wooden door with a tarnished label that read "Operation Room" and red spray-paint that warned of "Dr. Satan's playroom". A creaking push of the door revealed just what she was looking for. A gurney with padded leather restraints hanging off the rails. The sidewalk chalk pentagram situated underneath the stretcher made Richie adamantly refuse to enter and left her on her own to search for the last items on her list.

"Mac and I need you to be a whiteness so we can tie the knot in a week or so." she informed him with a yell over her shoulder towards the doorway, intending to distract him from shaking in his boots.

"Thought ya d-didn' believe in gettin' married?" he asked, trying to keep his light steady so it didn't vibrate with his quivering body.

"I don't. But what Mac wants Mac always gets..eventually." she replied with a huff, moving to a metal contraption with many drawers.

She was elated to find the shithead gutter punk Satanists that frequented the place had no interest in medical equipment. Kristy opened the first drawer to reveal scalpels and an array of other tools she needed in lower ones.

Ignoring the spider webs she shoved everything she'd need into a small duffle bag before throwing it atop the gurney and pushing the contraption forward towards Richie. Truthfully the groan its wheels let out made her jump and it was a relief when they were finally outside in the daylight.

With all the necessaries in tow they headed back to Cainville. Making one crucial stop at the Freemont general hospital before jumping back on the highway.

Krystal felt the Denali's tires hit the familiar off road terrain and small thrill ran through her as she navigated towards the notorious cave Richie had heard so much about. It felt surreal really once they had generator powered lights up and working again, illuminating the fire blackened walls of the enclave.

Her eyes swept over the empty space with nostalgia. Moving to the spot where the mattress used to be that they'd fucked on during lunch breaks and many women had died on aside from one man. Blond hair and green eyes flashed briefly through her memory.

She pictured Mac stabbing him before her mind moved to the first time Mac had touched her sexually. That scary and exhilarating few minutes that he'd had her strung up to the ring that still protruded from the wall. The space made her sadistically giddy as they continued setting up. Awakening the bloodlust full force as she anticipated the activities to come.

All through their late dinner she was buzzing with energy and distracted with excitement. Thankfully Richie had Mac occupied with recounting their adventure that day so he didn't notice the way she was itching to slice into his father. After all, seeing it in her could have very easily triggered it in him too so she was thankful she'd thought to invite his friend to dinner. Later once they were plied with cold beer and doobies for a 'boys only' night at the house Krystal gave Mac a meaningful goodbye before she stepped outside.

The cold near midnight winter air seemed to make the urge kick up a notch as she pulled out her phone and selected Walter's contact number. She only had to wait through two rings before he picked up.

"Meet me at La Mesa with the keys. We need to talk business."

 


	20. Itsy Bitsy Spider

**Author's Note:**   _Today_ _(May 9th) is the one year anniversary of Dangerous Recipe's first chapter being posted! I got a tiny tweak spider tattoo today in honor of it. (link to picture in author's about section on FFnet) I also got it in honor of posting my first real attempt at writing that day one year ago. I never Imagined writing would become such a big part of my life that day._

_I can't believe it's been a year since Mac & Krystal's story started! I feel like a proud parent in a way. I just love this series and the characters so much I can't help it!_

_But I really really want to thank each and every person reading these stories. Whether you've been with me since the beginning of DR or you've just discovered the stories. I'm extremely grateful that you all take the time out of your day to read and enjoy something I wrote._

_It's the best feeling in the world to see that view count and know there's people out there indulging in my work every day. And I can't thank you all enough. Just know I appreciate every one of you :)_

* * *

 

Walter thanked his lucky stars as he opened the Luna Mesa's door with Krystal following close behind him. He was ecstatic that the girl had finally consented to start cooking again. Partially because he was sick of relying on the bar's business and partially because some of the buyers were sending threats his way if their supplies weren't replenished soon. When he'd first happened upon her talent he'd never fathomed that her shit would be in such high demand.

Krystal was glad the old man was preoccupied with thoughts of money and meth. If he weren't he might have caught wind of the deadly intentions thinly veiled by business talk. Her heart was pounding and sick thrills kept shooting through her, making her unable to sit still once they were in his office.

"I'm ready to start cooking again but I need to know a little more about what goes on outside my chemistry set." she informed him, watching from her seat as Walter folded his hands on top of his desk with suspicion in his eyes.

"I have real and understandable reasons to worry about these things. I refuse to make a single crystal of it until I know what happens to my product after you pick up the bricks." she demanded, crossing her black sleeved arms over her chest as she sat back in her seat.

Walter sighed deeply as he continued staring her down. It could be worse, she could have been asking for a bigger cut of the payout instead of information. So he decided letting her in on the rest of the workings of the business was a small price to pay in order to get her cooking again.

"Before we take a shipment from you in the cave I call the customers on a secure line to make sure of their order." he began, producing a little black cell phone from a drawer in his desk. "Then I record the dealing in an accounting book so we can keep track of who will need how much and when."

"After that I drive the order to the designated drop spot, make the exchange, and go on my way. I used to have Mac do it but a little while before you showed up he couldn't be relied on to do it anymore." he concluded, watching as she got up and made her way around the desk to where he was seated.

When he said Mac's name it made her blood boil. He wasn't fit to speak his name and she was hard pressed to keep her breathing normal and her face intrigued as she moved in to attack.

"Let me see the phone. I want to be sure it's not traceable." she ordered, holding out her hand so close to him it made her itch to draw blood.

With the device in her grasp she slid the back cover off, pleased to see they'd gotten something right for once when it came to safety precautions.

"Thank you Walter, I feel much better." she half cooed, placing the cellular device back on his desk before turning to face him.

Her tar black eyes met his equally dark ones and a split millisecond before she lunged, he knew. She could tell by the way his pupils expanded with fear the second before her hands were wrapping around his neck. Her nails dug into his leathery skin when he started to struggle, looking up at her with bulging eyes filled with terror.

She'd thought he'd have more courage than that as his face started turning violent shades of red. But after all, he had no idea that she didn't intend to kill him. For all he knew she was about to off him and take over the entire operation. But as his consciousness slipped away he could see a personal gleam of malice in her eyes.

Kristy was enjoying it immensely, so much so that she had to reign in her self control when his body went slack. Once he was out cold she slipped a surgical mask from her coat along with a bottle of chloroform, dousing the cotton mask before attaching it to his face just for precaution. She didn't need him waking up in the middle of the ride to the cave and jumping out into the safety of the dark canyons.

Hefting his dead weight was a battle in its own but she managed with sheer pissed off might, making sure to come back and turn out the bar's lights. The last thing she needed was Devon being alerted by an illuminated suspiciously empty bar.

Though she was anxious to get to the cave she drove responsibly, not wanting to risk drawing any unwanted attention. Until she hit the first rocky patch of dirt. Then she was a bat out of hell, racing towards their destination as giddiness overcame her.

Walter woke with surprise to be waking up at all. His depraved life had flashed before his eyes and he'd been sure that was the end. Bright lights made his eyes snap shut as soon as they opened a crack. The smell of old sulfur and faint lingering ammonia hinted to where he was. But he couldn't understand why he was there. Or the point of his abduction.

Krystal watched with amusement as her captive realized he was restrained and immobile. His useless struggles stilled when her cackling laughter erupted with echoed intensity off the cave's walls. She moved into his line of squinted sight, just smiling like a Cheshire cat while he yelled and cursed. Waiting patiently until silence emerged.

"Do you know why you're here Walter?" she calmly asked, coming closer to his bedside and positioning herself in front of the work light so she could be seen clearly. "Or rather, what you did to get here?"

"Let me go right now you psycho bitch! I never did anything to you, I treated you good!" he spat, trying once more to fight against the straps professionally designed to keep him there.

"You're right. You haven't wronged me in the context you're thinking of. But think harder. I have very few things that I care about. My car. My cook set. And your son. What could you have possibly done to any of those things to get you here?" she questioned with a coy demeanor, leading him to find the answer himself.

Kristy observed the way his labored fearful breathing hitched and his eyes widened slightly as he tried to hide his realization. She leaned forward, smashing his long white goatee down while grabbing his jaw roughly when he turned his face away from her. Forcing him to look at the hatred blazing in her eyes.

"That's right Walter. I  _know_." she hissed with her face close to his, her disgust shining through her features before it was replaced with that ghoulish smile.

"You're going to get what you deserve tonight." she informed him with her sick lighthearted demeanor back in place as she moved over to a heart monitor situated on the side of the bed he hadn't noticed before.

Further down from that Walter's horrified eyes took in an array of medical tools laid out on a piece of ply board supported by two work stands.

"I should have killed you that day Mac had you strung up." he growled as she began turning the machine on.

A swift hand produced one of her favorite knives, snuggling it up to his jugular.

" _You_  do not get to say his name." she threatened lowly, moving the blade downwards to pop a button off his plaid shirt. "And yes, you should have killed me when you had the chance." she tittered, shifting back into her pleasantly grim attitude as she raked the knife down his middle, opening his shirt in one swift movement.

Krystal stared in awe at what she'd revealed for a moment before her face crumpled into pained sorrow. Her seemingly uncontrollable as of late emotions made a few tears of anguish trail down her face while a shaky hand came up to cover her mouth. She walked away from the sight only to return immediately in a hysterical disbelieving motion. She couldn't fathom what she was seeing.

An anatomically correct heart was depicted in the center of his chest with eight spider-like legs protruding from it. Four arachnid limbs reaching up over his shoulders, the other four evenly distributed with two just below his ribs and two extending down towards his pelvis.

All those tweak spiders in the basement and the ones Mac drew with everyday objects without noticing came to mind. It made sense now. And of course she couldn't stop herself from picturing how the spider got ingrained in his fragile psyche. That adorable little boy forced to his knees countless times, the eight-legged tattoo his only thing to look at while he was made to open his mouth. A shudder ran through her as the mental atrocity continued in her brain.

"This changes everything." she murmured quietly as she tapped the blade against Walter's body art.

He had a moment of fleeting hope as she despondently walked away and back again while she cried and thought.

"Initially I came here with two options for your punishment in mind. But now…I know you deserve both." she decided as she got back on track and slapped the sticky cold plastic patches to his chest.

Beeping in tune with his pounding heart sounded out once she had him hooked up to it properly. When she looked back at him her stomach lurched in revulsion. Truthfully she wanted to skin the tattoo from his body. But with everything else she had in store for him she knew his body wouldn't withstand that as well.

"Your own fucking son." she growled in a whisper, shaking her head at him with quiet contempt before she lost her grip a little and screamed it again in his face, letting her saliva fly out onto his skin while she attempted to break his eardrums.

Walter stayed silent as he watched her rant and rave. He'd seen her like this once before and it told him she was just short of jumping off the deep end. Last time she'd gone bezerk and lived in the caves like a tweaked out female Gollum. This time he had no idea what actions her insanity would spawn.

The fear of the unknown was what was scaring him the most at the moment. That and the way she was rushing back towards him with the knife clutched tightly.

"Say it." she demanded in a harsh bark, threatening him with the sharp edge digging into the tip of his tattoo's heart. "I want to hear you say what you did to him. I want to hear you own up to it you pathetic fuck!"

When he didn't utter a word she trailed the knife down the inked surface of his body, keeping the pressure light so she didn't cut too deep while he gritted his teeth and she moved back to the top to begin again. The beeping in the background elevating every time she started a new line. She was impressed how long he held out before he bent to her will.

"I fucked my son! I fucked him every day until he could fight back." Walter growled out through clenched teeth, letting out pants of relief when she removed the metal from his flesh.

"You didn't just fuck him. Use the proper word!" she screamed, beginning to cut the heart horizontally to start a checkerboard pattern when he didn't correct himself quick enough for her liking.

"Rape! I raped him." he admitted with a sob, letting out a yelp when she returned with a jug of antiseptic which doused the fresh lacerations covering his chest, making the red rivulets running down the sides of his body turn a light pink.

"So do you rape animals too or are helpless little children where you draw the line?" she sarcastically inquired as a sterile gauze pad was smacked onto his chest and taped down, making him moan in pain.

After that she took a moment for herself to collect her thoughts and focus. As she sat in the dirt and indulged in a cigarette she just stared at him, making him squirm under her heavy gaze in addition to the pain radiating through his chest. Kristy knew she needed to keep her emotions in check if she was going to continue. She couldn't afford to botch this.

The beeping kicked up a couple notches when she got up and that made a small smirk peek out as she approached the makeshift surgery table.

"You know, when I originally found out what you did to him I planned on forcing you to rape Devon." she proclaimed with a sigh as she cracked open a medical tome and began searching for her desired procedure. "But I decided against that because Devon wasn't involved in any of this and it would make me no better than you."

His face in reaction to that was priceless. But nowhere near the reaction she speculated she'd get once she did reveal his fate.

"Walter did you know a man can die from the pain of having one of his testicles crushed?" she inquired, moving away from the book as she took up her knife once again to slice open his pants.

"Please. Kristy I'll do anything you want. I'll treat him right. I'll do anything. Please!" he bawled, actually sniveling after she hinted to one part of his impending torture, breaking into full on sobs as she tore through his underwear.

"Jesus that is sad." she snickered as she stared down at his genitalia. "Mac must take after the men on his mother's side of the family."

Krystal ignored his blubbering as she cruelly dangled the knife above his junk, holding it with a flimsy grasp as she swirled it around and toyed with him. She wasn't surprised when he switched to spinelessly pleading for death instead.

"Nah. You're not going to die tonight on account of your son's softhearted mercy. I've taken staggering lengths to make sure you don't by his request. You see Walter. Despite all you've done to him. He still doesn't want his dad to die." she assured him with a mocking sympathetic tone.

"Depending on how you look at it that's just about the cruelest or nicest thing he could do to you." she observed with a laugh as she faked him out by acting like she accidentally dropped the knife, catching it the last millisecond before it pierced his saggy scrotum.

"In my opinion that's why Mac will always be a better person than me. He cares enough about you and Arlene to forbid me from killing either of you. While me on the other hand, I let my mama die and watched. It was more entertaining than Barney the purple fucking dinosaur. I enjoyed it." she rasped, reveling in the surprise and horror playing on his face at her confession.

"Since you won't be very coherent once I start I'll tell you the scheduled entertainment for this evening ahead of time." she announced with a cheery dark smile.

"I'm going to squash both of your balls like grapes. In the event that the pain causes your body to go into shock triggering a heart attack or stroke I'll deal with that accordingly. Once we're past that stage and you've had a bit of time to stew in that vat of agony I'll begin surgically removing your penis and ruined testicles. Sack and all. You'll be left with nothing but a small urethra hole to urinate from." she monotonously told him, watching as he began crying all over again.

"You'll have to sit down like a woman from now on when you pee." she cackled, pausing in her laughter to correct herself. "Well, that was before I found your creepy crawly little secret. After letting you suffer for a little while once I've stitch you up I'm going to paralyze you from the waist down."

"I think it's fitting payment for crippling your son emotionally. And the physical trauma you caused him will be paid in flesh." she concluded, adding a detail she thought quite comical before she began.

"You know, I was going to serve him your dick and balls on a silver platter. But on a basic male level I think it'll permanently disturb him more-so than make him laugh. So I'll probably just keep them in a little pouch as my own personal souvenir from our time together." she told him sweetly as though it were daddy-daughter time they were spending together and not grisly torture.

Walter's struggles ensued again with doubled effort when she turned away to the table. She began humming as she let her hand float over the tools on the table. Kristy selected a club hammer with the monitor beeping wildly beside her. The tool's large face provided a wide circle that was sure to catch one of his nuts on the first swing. She showed it to him before she took a stance at the end of the bed.

"Please don't." he choked out, desperation showing on his face as he cried shamelessly.

"Is that what your son said before you permanently scared him for life?" she asked in an enraged shriek, pointing the weapon at him accusingly, making his sobs intensify while she moved to his feet.

"The itsy… bitsy… spider… crawled.. up the water spout." she sang hauntingly, slowly crooning the tune out as she walked two of her fingers up his leg.

"Down came the rain and washed the spider out!" she bellowed quickly, slamming the hammer down between his quivering legs.

The sound Walter let out as one of his testicles burst inside its fleshy bag was unrecognizable. Krystal had never heard a human being make a noise like that. It continued over and over as his body convulsed and writhed, like he had no control over the horrible wail leaving his mouth. His eyes looked as though they were going to burst right from their sockets, the whites tinting red as blood vessels popped. The tendons in his neck looked like they were in jeopardy of snapping under the beet red skin covering them.

She waited with amused patients for his screams of agony to die down into ragged groans before she continued singing the creepy nursery rhyme.

"Out came the sun and dried up all the rain. And the.. itsy.. bitsy.. spider.. climbed..up..the..spout…" she softly chimed as she raised the mallet high into the air once more, bringing it crashing down on the last screamed lyric. "AGAIN!"

Kristy got to watch the debauched show all over again as she heard the last shred of his manhood pop. Though this time it was significantly less satisfying since he passed out half way through his fit of excruciating pain. She wasn't willing to grant him a single moment of unconscious relief, quickly moving to grab a small tube from the table and cracking it under his nose.

"Welcome back. You didn't think you were getting off that easily did you?" she chuckled as his watery bloodshot eyes focused in on her.

Walter regretted every time he'd touched his son a million times over as he watched her snap rubber surgical gloves on her hands. Every beating he'd doled out, every harsh word. If he'd known this is where he'd end up he would have done things differently. Not for Mac's sake but for his selfish own.

"P-pl-ph." he sputtered, trying to speak through the pain with a deep gulping swallow. "S-sorry."

"What? What was that? I didn't quite catch that? Are you telling  _me_ you're sorry?" she mocked at him, removing one glove to dig her phone out of her back pocket and record his apology on video. "I'm not the person you should be apologizing to."

"Mac 'm s-sorry." he choked out while looking at the phone, moving his eyes up to stare at her pleadingly.

"Awe how touching." she cooed. "But you're still losing your dick and balls. We can't have you molesting any mongaloid grandchildren Devon and Regina produce, can we?" she snapped in a harsher tone, saving the video before moving back to the business at hand.

She worked through his yells, moving quickly so he didn't lose too much blood. She'd never preformed any kind of surgery before but she was damn proud of the end result.

"Hey Walter, did I mention I'm going to be your daughter in law?" she announced as she threaded the last stitch through the spot where his penis used to reside.

Krystal glanced up from her work to find him gazing off into space with his mouth slack and a bit of drool seeping out. The glazed over look in his eye scared her for a moment before she realized his chest was still moving and the monitor was still beeping.

It was disappointing when he didn't scream or cry at seeing his own genitalia detached from his body and shoved right under his nose. But she was grateful for his incapacitated state when it came time to roll him over. He was like willing putty in her hands as she prepared to permanently handicap him.

"Please." he rasped out as she began feeling along his spine. "I l-learned my lesson..please."

She let out a sarcastic laugh before moving around the gurney to look him in the eyes.

"If I remember correctly, Mac always did everything you asked of him from murder to painting la Mesa. He worked like a dog for you all his life just to get a shred of your approval. And yet you gave all your meager love and respect to the son who never did a thing for you." she whispered to him, ignoring his final groveling for mercy as a wicked smile curled across her face. "After I do this to you I'm curious to see if your little pride and joy will even bother to take care of you."

Kristy watched a few more tears slip from his eyes before she resumed her position. Feeling each piece of his spine for the right place.

"This is really a precarious procedure. I need to make the injury below the T1 thoracic vertebra. If I hit anywhere in C1 through C5 I could kill you. So please, hold still." she advised, double checking the book situated between his restrained legs before making the incision.

Walter had hoped against hope that she'd mess up and just kill him. But as complete euphoric numbness engulfed his throbbing lower half, he knew she'd succeeded.

"Regina stop banging on the wall." Devon groggily growled, shooting up in bed when he realized he'd restrained her before they'd gone to sleep because of a particularly lucid episode.

The pounding sounded out again making Regina jump next to him. He let out a groan as he paused in a sitting position on the mattress's edge to rub his eyes. Whoever was at the door sounded pissed or had something urgent that needed addressing. Devon's eyes widened when the looked over to find their digital clock reading four thirty in the morning.

A muffled "Go back to bed Arlene this doesn't concern you." made Regina wriggle in her restraints, excited to know her best friend had come to visit them.

"It's Krissy, open the door!" she squealed with glee, her smiling face getting illuminated as he flicked on the motel room's lights and began unlocking the door.

He hadn't expected to see what was on the other side when he opened it. His dad was slumped over in a wheel chair, looking as through he'd been through the ringer and then some.

"The bitch cut off my manhood." he croaked out, his head lolling to the side so he could look up at his son.

"Don't act like you didn't deserve it." she snapped, forcing Devon to back up as she pushed his father into the room.

"I also paralyzed him." she added, taking in the infuriated look on Devon's face.

Before he could get out a single word she was on him, slamming him up against the motel door with a blood crusted fingernail pointed at his face.

"Believe me when I say he did deserve it. Devon I know you supposedly love your father but I know who you love more. If you make any move to get revenge for this I'll take Regina from you and give her to Mac as a playtoy." she growled out quietly, pausing a second for the threat to sink in. "Am I clear?"

He gave a cowardly nod as Regina continued giggling from the use of Mac's name.

"It's your time to shine golden boy. Make your daddy proud." she sneered, moving away to throw a bag filled with supplies he'd need to take care of his father at him.

The sun was just a faint glow behind the mountains when the closing backdoor woke Mac from his drunken slumber. When Krystal eventually walked into his half asleep line of view he jumped, startled to see the comfortable warmth he'd been snoozing against wasn't her.

Mac jerked away from Richie who let out a snort and shifted in his sleep before he continued his thunderous snoring. Kristy let out a laugh at the large darkened drool patch on Richie's shirt where Mac's head had been a moment ago.

She watched as he stretched, listening to bones crack in his back while he moved and yawned. Appreciating the way his muscles flexed as he did so even though she was dead tired.

With a jerk of her head at him towards her destination she made her way towards their bedroom, shedding her bloodstained clothes as soon as she made it past the threshold. It wasn't long before a familiar weight joined her underneath the bedcovers, settling to rest his head on her chest.

"How'd it go?" he asked insistently as she was just about to drift off.

"It was a success. He's alive and in Devon's care." she mumbled out, readjusting her pillow a bit before getting comfortable again.

"So whad ya do to 'em?" he demanded like a gossiping old hen, eager to hear all about it.

"Mac please, I'm tired. Let me sleep and I'll tell you when I get up." she quietly groaned, letting out a growl when he gave her a sharp poke to the ribs.

"Cummon, please?" he begged, giving her _the eyes_ when one of hers cracked open to look down at him, making her let out an exasperated sigh.

"It all started with a hammer-" she began, playing with his hair the way he liked before an urgent reminder struck her, stopping her story before it even started. "By the way, don't look in the Tupperware container with an X on it in the freezer."

"Why not?" he inquired curiously, raising one of his brows at her.

"Trust me Mac. Just don't look in it." she warned, remembering that it in fact hadn't begun with a hammer, but a knife.


	21. Meth Teeth Mayhem

**Author's Apologetic Note:** _Almost two months. That's got to be the longest I've ever gone without updating a Mac & Krystal fic. I'm sorry!_

_You can find examples of what Haus looks like here[[ X ]](http://dangerous-recipe.tumblr.com/post/89860145591/i-realized-ive-never-posted-a-picture-example-of)._

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The scream that woke her was so high pitched Krystal thought Mac had snapped sometime during the morning while she'd caught up on her sleep. She imagined a female of some kind bleeding all over her kitchen floor. Until she smelt the familiar odor of Mac's hangover breath wafting into her stream of inhaled air.

"Tha fuck was that?" came a groggy irritated snarl from on top of her as he shifted his weight and cringed at the pain shooting through his head.

"My best guess is Richie opened Pandora's Tupperware." she mumbled as the sound of the back door slamming shut came next.

Clicking nails on the hardwood and then the rhythmic thump of a happy tail wagging against her nightstand told her someone was optimistically waiting for their late breakfast. Kristy turned her head towards the noise, her eyes a bit blurry as they squinted against the bright winter sun. Slowly focusing to make out Haus' large head resting on the edge of the bed while he panted happily at her. What was resting on the comforter an inch from the dog's mouth made her eyes shoot wide open. The pooch looked at her and then the frozen penis, letting out a little whine like he wanted to play. But as with all his 'toys' Haus snatched it up just as she began to reach for it, loping away into the hallway with the severed phallus hanging out of his mouth.

"Mac don't get out of bed until I say." she ordered in a groan, only to look down and find him in no condition to move.

After she wrestled his father's penis from his dog, she added bringing him some water and a few aspirin to her morning tasks.

"Take these." she commanded, watching as he groped around blindly for the pills nestled in her hand, not bothering to open his eyes and look.

"Jesus" she huffed, lifting his head with a squeezing hand around his jaw until his mouth opened.

She dropped the white tablets into his putrid maw, following them up with carefully poured water. Apparently not careful enough because he started coughing like mad after the first few gulps. She waited patiently, smacking his back while he choked and regained the ability to breathe. His watery blue eyes cracked open at her, wincing again as his head pounded and he looked up at her. Pathetically cute and miserable.

' _Why does he have to look so damn adorable while he's being so incompetent. I never wanted a kid but somehow I ended up stuck with a foul-mouthed five foot eleven killer toddler.'_

"Drink more, you're dehydrated." she urged, forcing the glass towards his face until he took it himself and chugged down the contents while she protested.

"You're going to barf if you drink it that fast!"

Mac let out a rumbling belch when he finished. Unconcerned about burping up into her now scowling face. He gave her one of his dingy shit-head grins and grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards the bed so he could have his body-pillow back. She went willingly, letting herself get arranged for his comfort.

"Wuts tha plan fer today?" he grunted out once his head was agreeably situated on her chest, squishing her left boob without a care.

Kristy had to turn her face away for a second to catch some fresh air as he breathed open-mouthed up towards her. Normally she could tolerate the smell but it doubled in repulsiveness when he'd been drinking and had yet to brush his teeth. Something she no longer nagged about because of his insecurities in regards to the state of his chompers. Every time she tentatively said something and that embarrassed look colored his face she would regret it immediately. So she let it be. She figured if they all rotted out of his mouth she'd buy him new ones. Besides sparing his feelings, she secretly enjoyed the look his decaying mouth gave off. Something she'd never admitted to him in fear that he'd stop brushing them altogether if he knew.

"You're going to stay here and sleep off your hangover while I head out to the cave and get to work." she replied while moving to run her fingers through his bed-ruffled hair.

"You're off from work again, I'm using Richie for a lookout while I cook. He just doesn't know it yet. I should probably call and tell him so before he goes and opens the auto shop…" she rambled on, not moving to do so, continuing to play with his hair.

She felt Mac's face scrunch up in dislike against her skin.

"Wut tha hell 'm I sposta do all day?" he inquired with a bit of sass, unhappy to be left alone while she was out with Richie again.

Her mind raced to come up with tasks that needed doing and enjoyable non-productive things he could do. She was beyond relieved that he wasn't pushing to be out there with her while she worked. She didn't need him falling off the wagon after the hell she'd gone through to get him off the shit. She'd love to believe in him, believe he could resist the temptation of fresh meth sitting right there in front of him. But self control was not one of his strong points.

"You could get high, watch tv, wash the dishes, start packing our things up for the move, play with Haus, take a ride in your new truck." she suggested, his head perking up a little at her reminder of the scratched red step-side sitting in the driveway, making a small smile appear on his face.

With all the insanity that'd spawned from their attempt at anal sex he'd completely forgotten about his other birthday present.

"The key is hanging on the last coat hook next to the backdoor." she informed him with a larger smile as he squeezed her in the form of a silent "thank you".

They laid there quietly for a few minutes with Mac letting out little hiccupped burps here and there while his stomach gurgled violently. Until she remembered the task she'd given him for the day before.

"Did you happen to get around to picking out a name?" she questioned, shifting under him a little as her leg began falling asleep.

"Corleone-." he offered, his next words getting choked back with something else threatening to come up his throat.

Her eyes widened as she watched him choke it down, her alarm lessening when he looked like he'd successfully contained his up-chuck back into his stomach.

"I take it you guys had a Godfather marathon?" she chuckled, hoping he wasn't actually serious.

She could pass for Italian but she didn't quite think Mac fit the stereotype. She was picturing him with black slicked back mobster hair when he spewed without warning. Hot chunks of digested dinner, stomach bile, and unabsorbed liquor flooded her neck and chest. Even a little splashing up onto her face while he vomited exorcist style. Despite puke running down her skin onto the bedding, when he started dry heaving she reached out to push his hair back off his forehead, trying to soothe him. When he was finished he pushed himself up on shaky weak arms, looking down at her with fear in his eyes, just staring at the spot where her clavicles met in the middle of her spew-covered neck.

" _You fucking little shit. Look at you! What are you a dumb animal, puking all over yourself? Fuck! Go clean yourself up you nasty little bastard." She screamed at the small feverish child laying in a puddle of his own vomit, too achingly sick to even move._

_More cursing and then he felt his arm being pulled, his little body being drug with jerking force. So hard he felt a pain tear through his shoulder. More pain as his head smacked against the porcelain of a bathtub. Freezing water lapping at his filthy pajamas, rising and chilling him like a ton of ice cubes being pressed against his body all at once. He's too weak to even scream at the stinging cold. Soon it's so deep he can't breathe anymore. He goes to sleep with a hand on his chest pushing him down. He wakes up with water choking from his mouth and something painfully harsh scraping against his skin._

"Mac! Hello?" she tried again as a small gag slipped out, waving a hand in front of his face while more of his sick sunk underneath her and into the sheets.

He blinked a time or two and his eyes seemed to focus, looking even more terrified than before. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed a little.

"Vodka huh?" she noted with sarcastic humor, remembering that she'd left them with only beer, betting Richie was to blame. "Do you at least feel better now?"

He weakly nodded, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they swept over her face repeatedly. Making her brow wrinkle in confusion at his odd behavior.

"It's okay, shit happens." she offered through a choking cough brought on my her lurching stomach, thinking perhaps he was afraid she'd be pissed.

While it wasn't a pleasant experience, it wasn't like she was going to beat him for throwing up on her. If anything it drew another parallel to her earlier thought of him being her little man-toddler, almost making her let out a cynical laugh. She didn't understand his bizarre reaction.

"When we move lets just leave the bed here." she suggested as he got up and freed her, watching as he stumbled his way towards the bathroom.

She let herself go completely once he was gone. Gagging and retching so hard her stomach threatened to heave itself. A jarring weight on the other side of the bed was felt before she heard a lapping tongue from where she was seated on the edge of the bed.

"God damn it Haus NO!" she bellowed with a preventative hand held over her mouth.

Trying to shoo the behemoth off made him take it as a chance to play, bounding all over the bed and spreading the vomit everywhere.

"Just another day in paradise." she grumbled to herself, using the sheet to wipe her chest off as she rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and an insane smile spread across her face.

"Push the button, that one right there." she insisted, pointing towards the red circle protruding from the dashboard.

Mac looked at her skeptically from the driver's seat of his new baby. Leery that the button would trigger something that would pop out at him for her own personal entertainment.

"Push the fucking button Mac." she growled, pinching him on his denim covered thigh when he looked at her accusingly again.

"Fuck woman, alright..goddamn.." he grumbled, smacking her claws away before hesitantly raising a finger towards the button.

He pressed it in, flinching for a millisecond before the General Lee's Dixie-horn-anthem blared out from underneath the hood like a redneck mating call. The smile that cut across his face was so huge it was ridiculous. He pushed it again, excitedly bouncing in his seat a little as the horn sounded once more

"Happy Birthday, Mackie." she snickered, pulling him down to her level before smashing her lips to his roughly and taking off just as fast.

Mac watched her go, not bothering to even scowl at his hated nickname. Too happy to be bothered by it. As he watched her climb up into the Denali he got that sickening fluttery feeling in his stomach again. One that had nothing to do with borderline alcohol poisoning. A loopy smile spread across his face when he imagined himself bitching at a bar like all the other married guys.

"Ma fuckin' wife man. Ma wife. Ma wife's a crazy bitch. Ma wife." he babbled to himself, enjoying the way the title rolled off his tongue.

He paused in his dorky indulgence, eyes widening when he realized what he'd forgotten. He'd been so swept up in the awe of her actually saying yes he'd completely overlooked a very important detail. The ring. The circular band that would shackle her to him. He had half a mind to engrave "property of Mac" on the outside for good measure.

Mac opened the truck's tailgate, heading for the backdoor where an excited mongrel awaited him.

"Ya wanna go fer a ride jackass?" he cooed at the dog in a gruff way, the closest he'd ever get to the disgusting baby-talk Krystal used with the mutt. "'Course ya do, ya fuckin' fleebag." he teased through the glass panel, making Haus wiggle his butt and whine to be let out.

As soon as the door opened he was just a flash of brindle fur, bolting straight for the open driver's door as apposed to the designated truck bed.

"Aw fuck cummon." he hollered as the dog made himself right at home in the cab of the truck, slobber and muddy paw prints decorating the new upholstery.

When Mac reached the open door a tail started thumping against the seat but Haus' head was pointed downwards, brown eyes looking up at him in the universal canine expression of guilt. With a grumble about taking him out back like Ol' Yeller he climbed in, shaking his head at the nose prints now smudging the passenger window.

"When Krys gets home yer gettin' a bath." he threatened as the truck lurched forward, letting out an evil laugh as the happy tail stopped and the behemoth cocked his head in worry.

He didn't have any special love for animals, that was for sure. But he did have a soft spot for his dog. A little bit of sadness pricked him as he drove and the memory of his late pooch Gunner came to mind. Devon had been lucky he'd been too fucked up after the fall to get him back for that one. Back then Mac hadn't had much. And that vicious animal had been his only real friend. Even though he'd liked to lie to himself and tell himself the dog was only for protection.

As they pulled up to their destination another whine came from beside him, making him pat the dog's head after he put the truck in park. They both sat there for a few moments, staring at the hovel in front of them. The dirtied once white paint peeling away to reveal bare rotting boards, the front window he'd punched out in a rage and boarded up half-assed, general debris and garbage littering the front porch and yard.

Mac hadn't been back there since the day Krystal had insisted he stop beating around the bush and just move the rest of his crap up to her house. He'd been in denial that he was actually living with her. Uncomfortable with the intimate fact back when he was still trying to resist the transition of his new life.

It seemed so stupid to him now, all the pussyfooting and stalling he'd done. He should have just moved in the night she'd untied him from her bed. All his resistance just looked like a waste of time now through his changed eyes.

"Les go!" he barked when he found Haus hadn't moved to get out, his comically large body barely fitting on the width of the seat.

Haus let out a long yowling whine, communicating in his odd dog talk that he was not keen on moving back to the dump his master was headed for.

"Bath." Mac growled at him, standing back as the coward bounded off the truck bench at the hated word.

His boots felt like they weighed a ton as he reluctantly ascended the concrete steps. He'd bought the decrepit house as soon as he'd had enough money. He'd been nowhere near old enough to legally buy the property but the druggy owner hadn't cared. It'd been his sanctuary, his well earned place of peace and a shelter from Walter's assault. But as he'd soon learned, there was no getting away from his nightmares when he'd slept. Now the dwelling before him was just a grungy reminder of his lonely painful past.

The lockless door swung open when he pushed, revealing the living room and kitchen which still held an array of broken furniture and empty liquor bottles. It looked so strange now with its walls bare and empty of his sketches. Even more holes showing now that there weren't scribbled on pieces of paper to cover them.

In the kitchen he glanced at the scale that used to hold a piece of pizza as he passed. Now it held a lump of rotted and disintegrated mush.

He made his way to what used to be his bedroom. The sight of the dirty mattress in the corner making him pause. He stood there thinking of how many countless days he'd spent alone on that mattress, spun out with a stack of paper and a piece of charcoal. Wasting his life wallowing in the high. Even though he was looking back on his tweaker days with distain the craving still shot through him. Making him long for the exhilarating rush. His fingers twitched faintly, instinctively feeling for the familiar outline of a tin in his pocket.

The sound of trickling liquid mercifully snapped him out of his romanticized haze. A look over his shoulder told him Haus was voicing his dislike of the place in his own way. Mac switched to thinking about the come-downs. The days of crashing from sleep deprivation. The headaches and the hallucinations. The gripping paranoia that sent him peeking out windows no matter how exhausted he was. He got his feet moving while his mind moved to the painful pussing sores he'd created picking at his own skin. As he knelt down at the open closet doorway he thought about the worst physical damage his addiction had caused. His teeth.

He ran his tongue along them as he pried a loose floorboard away. The ones he wasn't missing were tinged black with decay. Not being able to eat hard foods without pain was the least of their burdens on him. He tried not to give a shit about the looks he got in public when he opened his mouth. Not that it mattered what people thought of him. He just hated the stares. He didn't know how Krystal handled the ones she got constantly for her face.

Krystal. The way she'd gagged into his mouth at the first forced taste he'd given her. He couldn't comprehend how she could stand to kiss him either. The flavor alone was enough to make him want to cut his own tongue out. Let alone the smell that wafted out every time he spoke or even breathed.

His self loathing and hatred for the drug that'd made him that way continued as he fished around for the tin can he'd hidden down below. When his fingertips found it he bent lower, hauling the extra large coffee can up with two hands to heft the weight. The plastic lid was peeled away to reveal his hidden treasure. Countless pieces of jewelry he'd collected over the years from unfortunate women who'd crossed his path.

He sat back against the wall, dumping the glimmering contents out between his spread legs, pawing through it as he tried to separate the rings from tangled necklaces and jumbled bracelets. As he gazed down at the pile he constructed the varying sizes looking back at him made him realize he had absolutely no idea what size would fit on Krystal's finger. He started trying them on, sorting them by how far down his finger they would go. He figured her ring finger was about a little bigger than his pinky. And by the time he was finished he had a small selection to pick from that might fit.

Said selection made him frown. They were all either fake costume jewelry or traditional diamond rings. He was going to settle for a tiny princess cut one and started throwing all the jewelry back in the can when a ring fell from the snared necklaces. It was definitely different. It looked a little big but the personality of the piece won him over.

"Ya think she'll like it?" he inquired to the mutt who'd come to lay beside him, holding it out for Haus to sniff in confusion.

He laid his head back down, uninterested in something that wasn't meant to be played with or eaten. Tucking the tin under his arm and his chosen band into his pocket, Mac took one last look at the place that was nothing but a reminder of bad times.

A deviant and fulfilling idea struck him as he remembered the gas can Krystal had included in the back of his new truck's bed. Along with a tire jack, jumper cables, and road flairs. If he knew her well enough, which he was willing to bet his left nut that he did. That gas can would be full, just in case.

A full smile ripped across his face and he made a bee-line for the truck, opening the door for Haus before closing him in safely with the coffee can. Mac hauled the gas can out, cursing at its sloshing weight making his back twinge as he walked. The stench of gasoline was hanging heavy in the air by the time he was done dousing the walls and floors. And he was giddy with excitement to burn the shithole down. He extracted his pack of smokes first, pulling out one of his 'special' cigarettes in celebration. After a few tokes he was ready to watch the show, lighting a piece of crumpled up newspaper before throwing it into the doorway and running like he expected it to blow.

Disappointment ran through him when nothing happened. Then all at once the house was in flames, the rotting wood catching easily even though it had a helping hand from copious amounts of gasoline. When it went up with an audible "woosh" Mac literally cheered, jumping up and down with his fists in the air and a joint hanging out of his mouth.

He climbed in the truck, pleased to see it had working heat to warm his freezing fingers while he hot-boxed the poor dog in with him and they watched the shack burn. He felt he was truly ready to move on as he watched the frame of the structure collapse in on itself.

"No matter what, above all else, tourists, cops. Whatever. Do not let Mac in this cave. Do you hear me?" Kristy demanded, waiting until she got a nod before pulling the mask down over her face and beginning her work.

That'd been hours ago. And Richie was getting bored out of his mind just sitting there watching the light fade from the entrance hole. He probably dozed off sometime without either of them noticing because a kick to his booted foot woke him with a start. He was bumbling to grab the gun Kristy had allotted him until a familiar voice sounded out.

"Yer a shit guard dog, ya know that?" Mac snickered, moving to pass him and enter the chamber he knew would hold his busy bee.

"Stop! Ya can't be goin' in there!" Richie screamed, trying to grab onto Mac's pant-leg and scramble to his feet all at once.

"Why 'n tha hell not?" he snarled when the bigger man actually pushed him back towards the entrance, ready to stab him if he put his hands on him again.

"She said so." he supplied, backing up a little as Mac got that look in his eye.

"Bullshit. Krys!…Krystal!" Mac roared, trying to sidestep Richie, getting blocked every time by the larger man's width.

She rounded the corner in her full biohazard suit, ripping her mask off to reveal a beet red panicked face. She didn't even scream at Richie, just taking hold of Mac's arm and forcefully steering him towards the faint light of the exit. Ignoring his sputtering curses and confusion at being thrown out. Once he was safely outside the tunnel's mouth she released him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she snapped, looking up at his slightly crestfallen face.

"Made ya dinner." he snapped back, holding up a brown paper bag for her to see. "Why tha fuck aint I allowed in tha cave?" he questioned dejectedly, looking much like a little boy who just got thrown out of his clubhouse by the bigger kids.

She let out a sad sigh, not wanting to admit her weak faith of his willpower. A little smile perked up her tired face as she glanced at the bag. She held up one gloved finger as she started walking away.

"I've got Hydrogen Chloride bubbling through a batch and I can't just leave it. Give me a minute and I'll meet you in the truck." she yelled over her shoulder, leaving him there mulling it over.

While waiting in the toasty cab he figured out why he was banned for himself. He didn't hold it against her one bit. He was actually pretty grateful for her sharp minded thinking as he felt the itch return. Having not even thought of  _that_  because of how excited he was to see her after a day of being apart. His leg started bouncing as the temptation started setting in. He was relieved to see her emerging from the entrance with the hazmat suit gone and her black wool pea-coat wrapped around her.

When the door was shut behind her the truck was filled with the scent of ammonia, teasing him with its familiar smell. She was sniffing the air herself, her head snapping in his direction.

"You smell like smoke and gasoline. What did you do?" she sharply accused, narrowing her reprimanding eyes at him as she took another deep inhale.

He let out a chuckle, throwing the paper bag her way.

"Jus burnin' sum demons." he replied cryptically, watching as her face crumpled into a scowl. "Burnt ma old house down" he confessed when she continued staring at him with that hard look.

She visibly relaxed, slouching down into the truck's bench seat with relief. Since he'd apparently chosen to fill his day with arson she figured there was still a sink full of dirty dishes waiting for her at home.

The brown paper bag in her lap was torn into with a ravenous manner, thanks in large part to her forgetting to pack lunches. What was inside made her cackle loudly. A double stacked bologna and mayo sandwich encased in saran wrap. The food she hated most in the world thanks to eating it for days on end when he'd been trying to trap her crazy ass. She smiled down at the sandwich fondly before doing the same to him. His stupid grin told her he was thinking the exact same thing.

"Was wonderin'.." he began as she busied herself with unwrapping her dinner. "..when we got money an we're settled inta tha new place an alla that…could I maybe..git ma teeth fixed..'er get new ones 'er wutever they do?" he asked as she took her first gulping bite out of a corner.

"I ike er eeth." she admitted through her frowning mouthful, going against her earlier resolution to never tell him so.

She swallowed the bite down whole, hurriedly clearing her mouth so she could talk. He had a flat look on his face that bordered on pissed off disbelief.

"I mean unless they're hurting you I'd rather you didn't. I like the way they look." she insisted, watching as he turned his face away and shook his head before she took another cringing bite.

"'S nice, ya tryina make me feel better. But I aint stupid." he murmured as he gazed out the window, sure there was no way in hell she could be serious.

She took another bite and started chewing as she thought of how to convince him. Finding it extremely ridiculous that she had to in the first place.

"You like my scars, I like your meth teeth, get over i- Aahhh." she yelled out in pain mid-argument, holding her throbbing jaw while spitting a wad of black metal out of her mouth.

' _That's what I get for chewing that nasty shit instead of just swallowing it.'_  she thought as she cringed at the pain now shooing through her own teeth.

Kristy slowly turned her head towards Mac, hand still holding her mouth a she gave him her most serious "What the fuck?" look. He reached over, picking the ring out of the ball of mushy bread and bologna she'd spit out. Holding it up for her to see as he gave her a sheepish look that meant he knew he was in trouble.

"Alla tha guys in tha movies put tha ring in food. Didn' even thinka that…" he trailed off, watching as her expression softened a little.

She let out a sigh through her nose along with her anger, her heart giving a little squeezing flutter at Mac's failed first attempt at romance. Kristy gave him a small smile, wincing at the shooting pains racing through her gums. It was endearing that he'd tried.

He took her hand, sliding the ring down her finger with an exhale of relief when it fit with a little room to spare. He watched her study it, hoping he'd done alright picking one out.

Kristy brought her hand closer to inspect, admiring the winding pieces woven to hold five rubies in their black-gold band. Making a cutout pattern setting for the gems that she enjoyed through the bits and pieces of food still clinging to it. It was intricate and simple all at once and undeniably expensive. She fleetingly wondered which one of his victims it had come from before she dismissed the thought, not really caring.

"'F ya don' like it there's this one too." he offered nervously, pulling the mundane diamond one out for her to see.

She shook her head rapidly before he even finished his sentence, absolutely enthralled by the unconventional band seated on her left hand. In her opinion it was dark and beautiful, just like their relationship.

Her already watery eyes overflowed and she mentally cursed whatever was making her so weepy as of late. With a sniffle and a coat sleeve wiped across her cheeks she scooted over across the bench. Nudging his arm out of the way, silently telling him she wanted closer to his body.

Despite the pain and tears she doubted she'd ever been happier than she was in that moment.

 


	22. Love is a Hell of a Drug

 

_I know I promised you readers smut in this chapter but shit happened. You'll get it first thing in the next one. I'm sorry for making you all wait so long. The funk or rut where I seem to produce half-assed writing hasn't ended so I said fuck it. This chapter is still crap to me but I can always go back months from now and try to redo it better. I just want their story out of my head and onto the page even if I feel my writing is lacking._

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"Fuck!"

She pressed the redial button again for the eighth time. Her fingernails clicking against the kitchen counter as she waited anxiously. Her bottom lip got bitten into when Richie's voicemail disappointed her again.

"S'matter?" Mac groggily asked, making the usually alert woman jump and snap around to face him.

Her startled look of surprise made him chuckle as he sat down to his breakfast. A smirk graced his face at actually being able to scare her.

"Richie isn't picking up." she growled in a huff, throwing him a dirty look for the unneeded extra dose of anxiety.

"I useta pass out fer days after bingein' an stayin' spun up fer days on end. Prolly jus blacked out." he speculated before popping a syrup covered slice of pancake in his mouth.

She froze at his theory, mouth slightly ajar as he acknowledged that he knew Richie was still using. Half panicked that he might know about her little deal with his friend. And half proud that he'd resisted bashing Richie's brains in to steal his meth. She realized he must have had more restraint than she gave him credit for.

Rather than stand there catching flies she busied herself with one of the pans in front of her, throwing her phone aside to plunge her hands into the soapy water. She hesitated a second before slipping the black band off her finger, leaning over to put it a safe distance from the garbage disposal's hungry mouth.

Mac managed to make her startle a second time with a sharp barked out "Ey!". The same reprimanding sound he used when he found Haus up to no good.

"I don' never wanna see that ring off yer finger goddamnit!" he demanded after her brow furrowed at him in confusion.

He said it in a cocky way. Partially still gloating over getting her to bend to his marital will. The paranoid way his eyes kept shifting from the ring to Krystal made her realize he wasn't joking.

"Are you serious? You would rather risk it slipping off and going down the drain than having it off me for fifteen minutes?" she huffed, pursing her lips when his steely eyes narrowed at her. "We are alone. In our home. What? Do you think a man is going to pop up in a window the second he hears the ring hit the counter and carry me away?" she hypothesized sarcastically.

Mac momentarily pondered making a joke about her breaking the man's back. Rather than having to hear more self-conscious bitching about the slight outward curve of her stomach again, he chose instead to growl lowly for her to put it on. He watched her hold her hand up, wiggling her fingers at him teasingly. Her dark eyes stayed on him while the other grabbed for the ring. A slow mocking smirk uncurled on her face while she slid it onto her middle finger and left it the only one standing. Mac retaliated by whipping a sausage link at her face. The meat stick left a line of grease on her cheek before it fell to the floor much to the dog's delight. She so badly wanted to throw something back. She knew if she did his entire plate would get chucked at her head next and another breakfast would be expected to get made. Reigning in the childish streak that Mac's petulance always instigated in her she took the mature stance. She kneeled down so Haus could slobber her face clean before replacing the ring on its correct finger to please Mac and continuing the dishes.

"I only need to make a couple more batches to fill the usual order so I guess I'll do without a lookout." she sighed while gently scrubbing food residue off the Teflon surface.

"Ah ooo et." came a muffled full-mouthed suggestion from behind her.

"No."

"Bu-"

"No!" she snarled, banging the pan against the sink's basin as she looked over her shoulder with a glare.

"Quit bein' a fuckin' cunt else I ain't marryin' ya." he snapped back, making her mouth drop open in disbelief at his self-hindering threat.

Her hands dripped soapy water all over the floor as she turned around fully to watch him scowl at his food. Leave it to him to use a stipulation he'd demanded for his own benefit, twisting it like she'd been the one chasing after him with wedding fever. His backwards threat infuriated her and made her fight a ridiculous smile threatening to curl her lips all at once. Reminding her why she enjoyed him so much. That mixture of hatred and fondness he could ignite in her at a second's notice.

She let out a long breath of air along with her finger-twitching urge to smack him over the back of the head with her clean skillet.

"Look, it's just not worth it. I'd rather I get caught than…" she trailed off, not voicing the alternative outcome she believed would happen.

"M' not gunna turn inta a fuckin' mindless junkie tha second I see tha shit, goddamn give it a rest already." he muttered with hidden uncertainty as she continued her chore, addressing the pink meth elephant in the room.

"Maybe not but putting you through the temptation isn't worth it to me." she reasoned with guilt heating her face as he called her out.

When she spied Mac rolling his eyes and wordlessly mocking her she dropped the pan back into the water, snatching the dishrag to dry her hands with irritated force.

"Do you know how many lives I've seen ruined by what I make? How many families torn apart?" she started ranting, coming to sit beside him at the table.

When he gave her a flat look she decided to change her argument's direction knowing he had no sympathy for other people's circumstances just like her.

"What you saw in the cave when I lost my mind wasn't my first experience with meth." she admitted, shocking the shit out of him so much that a bit of sausage dropped from his open mouth onto the floor where Haus quickly gobbled it up.

"I tried my own stuff once before years back." she continued, hoping his awe would melt away as she got to her point. "I thought about using at least once a week after that, usually whenever I was cooking. The craving never went away, I still get it to this day and that's only from experiencing it a few times. So I can't imagine the level of temptation a regular user feels after they've quit."

She paused for a breath, taking note of the way his leg had started bouncing. She briefly wondered if it was from agitation or a craving rolling through him.

"I'm not saying I think you'll fall off the wagon, I'm just saying I don't want to put you through that hell because I know what a fraction of it is like." she surmised, deciding not to draw the discussion out any longer due to his darkened expression.

The nervous thumping of his leg continued while she watched him draw spiders in his syrup with the half eaten sausage link on his fork. Clenching and unclenching his other fist while he glared at his food and thought. She kept her defeated sigh bottled inside, crossing her arms, waiting for his response. Mac was trying to go over his list of negatives about the drug again. Each time the little devil on his shoulder presented excuses and belittled the negatives, tempting him with memories of the euphoria. Kristy was about to give up and return to her dishes when he finally spoke.

"Wut if I did fall off?" he questioned in a timid way though his voice wasn't any less gruff than usual, not looking up at her as he asked.

She didn't get to answer before he started to defend his question with her own revelations.

"Ya said yerself we aint meant ta be normal. That this life we been livin' aint really us even though we fuckin' tried. Wut if I told ya tha killin' was jus like gettin' spun. Somethin' I can't live without?" he continued, glancing up at her anxiously while her dark eyes looked back at him.

Guilt swept over her at the way he asked the questions. Like he was afraid she'd resent him or outright leave him if he fell back into his old ways.

"I fell in-…" She stopped herself, eyes slightly widening, skin heating.

"I wanted you when you were using Mac, if you started again it wouldn't change anything." she reassured him, going on to get something off her chest that'd bothered her for a long time. "What I did to you after the murders was fucked up. I was selfish because I was scared of you getting hauled away. And it was the only way I could keep you out of prison with agents and cops banging on our door every five minutes. But that doesn't make it right."

Her apologetic look deepened even though he was looking at her with a scrutinizing expression that seemed out of place in reaction to her words. If anything she thought he would have looked relieved.

"The only reason I've been trying to keep you away from the shit was because you seemed proud of yourself…." she trailed off, a little confused as to why he kept looking at her like that.

"Ya fell in wut?" Mac demanded, bypassing the metaphorical green light she'd just given him.

Her mouth dropped open and snapped shut just as quick.

"Don't start." she hissed, throwing him a warning look while escaping to the dishes.

"Damn right ya fell head over heels tha second ya seen me." he taunted humorously, careful to keep the actual forbidden word from his own mouth.

Kristy tried to out-clang his teasing with roughly washed pots and pans.

"Had yer ass cookin' ma dinner in tha first week." he boasted louder, cutting another slice of pancake while watching her back muscles tense with aggravation.

Her head shook back and fourth and quiet laughter came from her smartass smile.

"All that crank must have scrambled your memories. Because by the end of the first week it was me who had you so smitten you couldn't get it up to fuck another woman." she shot over her shoulder, effectively cutting his mocking game of memory lane short.

He struggled to remember the timeline of their relationship for a moment. Eventually he realized she was right with a scowl thrown at her back.

"Still ma bitch." he faintly growled from the table with a tone of immature stubbornness.

She hummed in peaceful agreement and let the subject die with him in a victorious position. Switching the conversation back to the original matter at hand.

"I've got no problem with you being my lookout but I have to stop in and check on Walter on the way. It's been a few days and I'm not too confident in Devon's bedside manner. I think a little bit more psychological torture is in order for Walter too."

The devilish smirk on her face when she looked over her shoulder at him intrigued Mac.

"Yer not gonna do anymore…" he trailed off with a grimace, nodding down towards his own crotch.

"Nope. Just mind games. I intend on making sure everyone we leave behind stays nice and miserable after we're gone." she chirped sweetly before adding for his comfort that he could wait in the car while she did it.

"Nah, should pro'bly go see tha old fart one more time b'fore we get tha hell outta here." he grumbled as his parental vice made him decide to see his father one last time.

When they pulled up at the end of the neglected train of rooms she paused for a second before getting out of the car. Mac watched her eyes dart from the end closest to the Luna Mesa where Devon's room resided to the other before sticking to the room in front of them.

"Yer right. Devon wouldn' want 'em there while he's porkin' Regina." he affirmed in reference to which room his father would be kept in.

Kristy nodded in agreement before they started towards the door. When the doorknob resisted under her palm she reached for a set of keys in her bag. Mac rose a brow at her while she unlocked it.

"You underestimate my creepiness." she snickered looking back at him while she opened the door and started to enter.

A body crashed into her and sent her flying backwards with a surprised shriek she would be embarrassed about later. Nails were tearing at her clothing and dirty blonde hair was blocking her vision. A bite would have been taken out of the skin covering her collarbone if it weren't for her coat. Mac's amused expression came into view shortly after Regina's reddened face.

"Let me go! Please let me go! He's gonna come back soon! Fuck please!" the girl screamed down at her.

Mac fought to keep her hair from slipping through his fingers while he used it to pull her up off Krystal. She was kicking and flailing so much he had to thread an arm around her stomach through her wild limbs. An elbow caught him in the side of his head and he was done humoring his brother's captive. There was no care for her wellbeing shown as he hauled Regina through the threshold and towards the room's bathroom. Several bruises were added to her trauma thanks to her own thrashing into objects along the way. Mac threw her through the doorway and watched as her forehead slammed into the rim of the dingy toilet. He was having himself a chuckle about the whole thing until Regina started to stagger to her feet. The line of blood coming from her temple didn't stop him from pushing her back with a boot to her stomach.

"Jesus." he growled when she tried getting up again.

Regina's screams and snarls got cut off from Krystal's ears outside when Mac slammed the bathroom door in her face. She found him leaning his weight against it. Watching her shake snow from her hair while she shut the room's door behind her.

"Lil help?" he snapped when a short running start gained Regina enough momentum to knock Mac forward a little and open the door an inch before he pushed it back.

A chair housing a horse saddle got yanked from its place and shoved under the door's knob. Holding steady when the girl behind it tried to ram it again.

"Where's golden-boy?" she asked the figure lying in the bed with smug irritation lacing her voice.

Mac didn't see Walter's shrug because he wasn't ready to look at the man yet. Instead he looked around the room while Krystal busied herself with clean bandages. The furniture was all the same. Just a little more broken and worn than he remembered. He hadn't been back in that room since the day he'd saved enough for his own place. Memories before that day made his skin crawl. The old table who's top held an array of knife marks particularly unsettled him. The first time he'd felt pleasure instead of just pain had been bent over that table.

A bag on said table helped him avoid thinking about the past. The plastic had been torn open with a knife that lay nearby, the white powder strewn about. His eyes moved to the spoon and needle before he reached out to touch the drug. He brought his dusted fingertips up to his face, sniffing it softly enough to prevent particles from getting sucked up into his nostrils. His tongue darted out quickly just to be sure.

"Looks like dipshit Devon can't tell tha difference 'tween coke and heroine. Didn' realize it till he shot 'er up an she went crazy. Betcha he's out tryina score tha right shit." he deduced while he finally turned to face them, holding his powdered fingers up for Krystal to see.

His father let out a whimper as she roughly taped fresh gauze to his slowly scabbing chest. Mac couldn't believe it was the same man who'd terrorized him all his life. His skin was so pale he could pass for a white man. The skin around his eyes had sunken in. Making them appear to bulge and stand out further with their reddened blood vessel ruptured state. Said eyes stayed pointed towards the ceiling in an empty disturbed stare. It'd only been a few days but it looked like he'd lost much of his body weight. He looked frail and miserable. Almost half dead. Mac cracked a cruel grin as a feeling of long deserved validation spread through him.

His gaze switched from the paraplegic to the woman roughly turning Walter to check his spinal incision. He finally understood how Krystal had felt watching him graduate. He'd felt pride a number of times before when he'd sauntered into La Mesa with her on his arm. But this was a different feeling, like a big brother watching his little sister ride her bike without training wheels for the first time. It was gratifying to see his sick little psychopath had walked the thin precarious line of giving her victim extreme pain while keeping him alive. He'd never tell her so but this was the first time he felt proud of another person's accomplishments instead of envying them.

"How is that even possible? Heroine is distinctly beige. How could he mix that up after drugging her for years?" she scoffed while rolling the man onto his back.

She felt more than saw Mac's shrug as he came to stand beside her.

"Taking care of his father and raping his sister must be too much for him to handle all at once." she sneered down at the man who'd chanced a glance at his son. "How are you doing Walter, is Devon living up to his favorite son status?"

A hoarse yes and a weak nod made her scoff at his stubborn lie.

"Bullshit. You've got a urinary tract infection in your urethra because someone wasn't man enough to replace your catheter with a clean one." she muttered while doling out an appropriate amount of antibiotics for him to take.

Mac watched her curse under her breath at the empty water glass on Walter's bedside table.

"Lock the door. She seems insanely lucid but still nutty enough not to realize she can unlock the door from the inside to escape." she advised as she moved toward the quiet bathroom with the empty glass in hand.

Kristy knocked on the door and laid her head against the wood to listen. There was movement and she let out a relieved breath, thankful the girl hadn't cracked her skull open during her coked-out fit.

"Regina I'm going to open the door and if you behave you won't get hurt. Alright?"

There was more shuffling from behind the door before a timid "Alright" was squeaked out. Kristy un-wedged the chair and opened the door quickly, stepping out of the way incase another lunge attack was planned. Her head popped around the doorway to see Regina pacing in the limited space between the shower and sink. Wringing her hands together worriedly and mumbling to herself about being bad.

"If you be good from now on and you do what I say I won't tell Devon what you did." Kristy promised while she filled the glass with tap water.

A vigorous nodding of sandy curls came before adrenalized shaky arms wrapped around her. "Okay. Okay! Get off!"

More pacing started once the girl was shaken off. Accompanied by mumbling that couldn't be deciphered. With a sigh of irritation at the feeble existence of a conscience she didn't want to believe she had, the darker female turned off the tap and set the glass aside. Vigorous sniffing and nose wiping was interrupted by violent hands grabbing Regina's ashen face.

"Reggie focus on what I told you before. Do you remember?" she growled quietly, shaking the head clutched in her hands when the yayo made dilated blue eyes wander.

"Not…not when you're here…I have to m-make it on my own."

"Right and…?"

"I have to get strong."

The twitch of a repressed smile moved her lips as she nodded in the affirmative and she let her hands drop form the girl's cheeks.

"You could have made it today before I got here. This isn't your room Regina, the door locks and unlocks from the inside only. He was gone. The keys to Walter's truck were on the table." she lectured softly.

Regina's head snapping towards the open doorway and determined scuffling steps toward her made Kristy's expression harden again. She grabbed a pair of frail shoulders to steal their owner's attention again.

"You have to keep telling yourself those things over and over again so you can remember when the time is right." she advised with a rough shake to Regina's frame. "I know you can get it together if you really try. Now go do those exercises I showed you and hide some of the white stuff so you can get your mind back if you need to."

With an eager nod Regina brushed past her to start doing pushups on the room's cigarette burnt carpet. Kristy turned towards the mirror with an exasperated sigh. She was moving a hand up to pinch the bride of her nose in her standard pose for dealing with stress when a chunky surge came up to meet it. Breakfast came back to visit, coating the hand that meant to cover her mouth and hold it back. Her retching made Mac's throat tighten in automatic reaction as he covered the small space between the kitchenette and the bathroom.

"Know yer uppity 'bout gettin' fat but we're too broke fer ya ta be goin' all top model on me." he quipped before the murderous expression she gave him in the mirror made him innocently add "Aint barely got no grub left at home." with a shrug and a grin that made her eyes roll.

"I didn't do it on purpose" she snapped, reaching out to swat at him from her bent stance over the sink.

The chunks that went flinging onto his overalls made him curse and her smirk while she moved to rinse her mouth.

"Told ya them moldy strawberries wasn't a good idear." he insisted smugly while he leaned up against the doorway and basked in being right.

"I don't think it's the strawberries. My stomach can take anything, I grew up surviving off dumpsters, remember? I think I'm getting sick.. my whole body doesn't feel right."

"Tell me tha MacDonalds story again, tha one where ya had ta fight four rats fer…" he trailed off when her expression clued him in that she wasn't in the mood.

The partially digested bits of fruit and flapjack that refused to let the water drain made her let out a short sarcastic laugh before she dried her chin and snatched up the forgotten glass of water. Imagining Devon's face when he reached in to unclog it was what put her in a better mood as she forced the pills and water down Walter's throat.

"I think it's time for a little conversation to lift your spirits." she chimed in that voice that made her patient's skin crawl in painful memory.

The door-wedge chair was brought to Walter's bedside while Mac seated himself at the kitchen table and Regina progressed into violent rapid sit-ups. Krystal retrieved a photo from her bag before seating herself.

"I brought you this." she began as she held it up for him to see. "Because I don't see it doing much good sitting in an empty bar."

Walter's weak brows rose a little and his shaky hand tried to reach for it before falling back to the bed in weak failure. She shushed him with false concern, leaning over to prop the photo against his beside lamp where he could see it.

"She looks a lot like Regina." she mused while she watched him stare at the photo and a hint of happiness came to his face.

She intended to shred that happiness and shatter his last meaningful relationship.

"It looks like she was a real dime piece compared to our mothers." she added with an inclination of her head backwards toward Mac. "She was the only woman you ever really loved, right?"

Walter winced with a mixture of longing and dread stinging him deep in his blackened heart. He could tell the deranged woman beside him was out for emotional blood.

"Too bad she didn't love you enough to stay instead of running off to Salt Lake City with the intention of tricking a wealthy man into falsely fathering your son."

Shock made the mouth in front of her drop open and incredulous eyes darted from the picture to her face.

"Devon can't be trusted once he gets a few drinks in him, you know that." she supplied before continuing. "If she really truly loved you don't you think she would have given up her future and stayed in this dead end town with you?"

Mac's insides prickled with smug pride at the fact that his woman had done exactly that and much more. She voiced his feeling as though she'd read his mind.

"I gave up a hell of a lot more than a cushy housewife position for Mac.. It's a pity Mrs. Ashton didn't afford you the same devotion. But considering the choices you've made you really didn't deserve it anyway."

When Walter tried to turn his face away she manhandled his jaw line harsh enough to give him whiplash, the same way he'd done it to Mac countless times in the past. He didn't want the jealousy to come to light that'd started the first time she'd blindly defended his son without rhyme or reason. The way he'd fantasized about Devon's mother taking up for him like that instead of bending to her parents' racism.

"You must have been so happy that first summer she came back. It's sad that happiness didn't last more than a few years before you started resenting the fact that you were her little dirty-sanchez secret." she sneered assumingly while she forced him to look at the image of his deceased love. "I'll bet you hated her even more when you fond out she was pregnant with another man's child."

A snort of laughter came from the man behind her. The way she correctly guessed his father's psychological reaction to past events reminded him of the time she'd used that same tactic on him when she'd been bound. He was already enjoying the emotional torment she was building up to and he expected the finale was going to be grand. The thought crossed his mind that she'd probably make a good shrink, the kind that made her patients crazier.

"If I'm correct, it's your love for that traitorous woman that makes you favor an incompetent spoiled college dropout. The son who's grown up to be the kind of pampered yuppie you wouldn't hesitate to blow away if he hadn't slithered from the cunt you favored. Admit it you wo-"

"God damn it Regina I said not while I'm here!" she bellowed, interrupting herself.

An outraged expression swept over the girl's face from where she'd been slowly scooting across the carpet towards the door before it got replaced with bewilderment at how her co-captor had known without looking.

"'S creepy aint it." Mac muttered while dragging Regina back to the center of the room by her arm. "Does that shit ta me all tha time."

"Admit it Walter. Devon's a bigger disappointment than you ever tried to make Mac out to be. And if it weren't for the memory of his mother you'd have treated him likewise." she insisted, watching repressed truths play across his haggard face. "He's a selfish little shit thanks to you too. So selfish he's more worried about keeping his pet drugged than taking proper care of you. I'd go as far as claiming he doesn't love you at all. He's only here because this wasteland was the perfect place to live out his incestuous dream life without getting caught."

The fact that Regina had been locked in the same motel room with him made that obvious to her. The old man seethed with hatred that she was right as he remembered the instructions his son had given the girl days ago for his care. He'd scarcely seen Devon since then except when he'd come to bring food and collect his toy for evening activities or keep her medicated.

"He slurred that out one night when he was ranting about how much he hated this place, that you used his fucked up fantasy to entice him out here so you could have him near you again. You must have been so lonely after she died since he stopped visiting after the accident happened."

Tears were rolling sideways down Walter's face onto his pillow. A soft whimpering sniffle made Mac look up from the spider collage he'd been drawing in the cocaine. In all the years he'd spent with the man he'd never seen him cry. The way she continued in a light mocking tone made a tiny shiver run up his spine and made him hope he never pissed her off bad enough to incur this side of her.

"I wonder..if you'd still love him so much if you knew he's the one who took her away from you." she softly cooed, a vicious smile slashing across her face when that insinuation made him fight against her hand with what little strength he had left.

"After she was done letting you fuck her over the bar she called her husband to pick her up. Then Mr. and Mrs. Ashton went for a drive in the dark canyons to find their children. In a tragic turn of events the dirt bike your son was driving was what made Mr. Ashton swerve off the road and crash."

A muffled "No!" came from the mouth her hand was keeping in its place.

"Yes, Walter. Devon told me all about it. How he lied when you rode up on your horse hours later and found the scene. There was no coyote in the road. He lied to you. It was just your son's shitty driving that killed her. He also told me how happy he was they were gone so Regina had nobody to rely on besides him. He bragged about it and tried to say that little accident was part of his plan all along."

When something similar to "Liar." was screamed between her fingers she cackled at its irrelevancy.

"I don't care if you believe me or not. It doesn't matter if you do because I know while you're laid up in here you're going to start thinking about that night and you're going to start finding things that don't add up."

The damning detail that he hadn't seen any tracks anywhere near the accident made Walter break down completely.

"He's quite the little psychopath when he's not too busy being a coward." she chuckled while watching his chest heave with broken sobs. "Or getting you and Mac to do his dirty work for him."

She paused for a moment and sat back in her chair, releasing his goateed face. Basking in the misery she'd cultivated while his unrestrained heartbroken wails echoed around the room. The powder spiders had been forgotten behind her and Mac was glued to the scene with slightly disturbed awe.

"Mac was the son who succeeded in the things that really mattered to you in life. Your love for that whore made you too blind with hatred to see it. Or maybe you did see how worthless your favorite was, you knew it all along, and that's why you were so hard on Mac. Deep down you wished Devon would be loyal and hard working like him and he just kept disappointing you so you took it out on the son whom you knew would never leave you." she speculated with a nod of confidence that she was correct.

"It's a funny thing when love isn't requited. How it can fester inside, poising you from the inside out. She didn't really love you, you were just a yearly vacation fling. Devon never loved you, you were just his pawn. Regina will never love him the way he wants. You never loved Mac the way he deserved…" she trailed off while her mind led her to wonder what that meant about Mac's ability to love.

Mac's uncomfortable fidget at all the serious talk of the emotion that made him feel like barfing brought her out of her mind.

"What a tangled loveless web you've spun your life into." she tisked at him without a drop of sympathy.

"M-m-mac 'm s-sorry." he babbled, much to her surprise.

An uncomfortable cough from behind told her it was time to go, her counterpart had had all he could take.

"Too little too late I'm afraid so you'd better hope Devon steps up his game soon or else you just might croak." she laughed cheerfully, her demeanor changing once more.

"The son who's always been there no matter how much you beat him down isn't going to be around anymore. We're leaving Cainville soon and you're going to be left with the one who doesn't care if you live or die." she informed him as she moved to collect her things and ignored Regina's distraught grabbing of her pant-leg.

Devon arrived with a paper drug-filled bag in hand to find Regina crying hysterically as Krystal followed Mac out the door wordlessly. He slammed the door behind them and ignored his sister's frantic screeching that "Krissy" was "leaving forever". He thought nothing of it and left her to claw uselessly at the locked door. Leaning over towards the dirty window he enviously watched them climb into the shiny new truck he felt his brother wasn't worthy of. When they were gone he straightened and turned to find his father glaring at him venomously.

Mac glanced behind himself again at the faint glow emanating from the alcove where Krystal was working. She'd positioned him halfway up the tunnel that led to the cave hoping it would help to distance him from the chemical aromas. But he was losing his will after hours of her creation's signature scent faintly wafting down the shaft, teasing him. He was proud of himself for sticking it out past lunch and even more so as early evening approached. He'd done everything he could think of to keep himself sitting there. Even clenching his jaw here and there to make his teeth throb and give him a painful reminder of why he needed to abstain.

All the little tricks he'd employed throughout the day were weakening and the part of his brain that made him do horrible things was working to seduce him. He wanted it so badly he'd begun picking at his skin again to curb his agitation. Specifically the spot near his collarbones that already held a patch of tweak scars. The pain only did so much and before he even realized he was doing it he was on his feet, trudging clumsily towards the cave thanks to half asleep legs.

"'F I ken jus looket tha shit an not touch it I know 'm good." he half growled half mumbled to himself.

Rounding the cave's corner made his eyes water a bit from being unused to the harsh corrosive fumes. He made careful quiet steps, not wanting to startle his cooker and accidentally get shot. His eyes darted from Kristy's suited back to the heavenly pile of pink unpackaged powder sitting on a table to her right. Once he was standing there staring down at the small mountain all he wanted to do was smack his face down into it. What little self control he had left was dwindling with the admission she'd made earlier that morning repeating in his head. Junkie or not, Krystal would still love him no matter what.

Kristy jumped slightly and almost dropped the beaker in her gloved hand when movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Mac was leaning over the packaging table with his hands clasped together behind his back. She watched him take a deep inhale a few inches away from the pile and let out a strangled moan. With an exasperated sigh that didn't leave her mask she put the tube full of volatile liquid back in its holder before moving to address him. The sound of her mask being pulled back made him snap up straight and his features arrange into that of a dog who just got caught chewing on expensive shoes. They just stood there staring at each other for a moment while she battled a dilemma in her mind and he waited for her to say something. She didn't want him struggling with guilt on her account.

"I'll do it with you." she finally decided, scooping up a portion in her latex covered hand to hold it up between them.

The look on Mac's face was so outraged it confused her before he smacked the contents out of her hand and spat a disgusted "no" at her that curled his upper lip. Her brows gathered in confusion as she looked from the rosy dust covering their boots to his snarling face. Shoving the mask back on her face she held up her hands incredulously at him and shook her head, leaving him to stare at the meth while she continued working. Kristy shrugged to herself silently while she presumed he was pissed at her for enabling him. She figured he was having some kind of moral struggle over whether or not he really wanted to throw his crank sobriety away. A small smile crept onto her face at that thought, if the Mac she'd originally met wanted something he snatched it with no regard to his own wellbeing. She was glad to see him struggle instead of just giving in.

Struggle he did. Mac stood there for a hour at the very least, just staring into the pile. When he moved from his statue state and pinched a little bit in between his fingers warning bells went off in her head. Though she wouldn't hold it against him if he started up his favorite vice again, she needed him sharp minded and sober for the drug deal. It wouldn't do to have him tweaking out and attracting attention when they were trying to smuggle thirty pounds of designer meth over the boarder. The delicious longing moan he'd let out earlier gave her an idea for the perfect way to distract him.

"Señor! Señor Espisito! Señor!" a small boy bellowed through halls of his owner's prestigious abode, frantically trying to find the lord of the manor.

He was beginning to fear for his young life. El Carnicero Blanco did not appreciate late news pertaining to his endeavors. Especially that which concerned the scarred girl. Everyone on the estate knew how important she was to find. Another servant eventually took pity on him and told him their master was in the tiger enclosure overseeing the slaughter of a few misbehaving field hands. The boy ran as fast as his legs would carry him through the gardens and past a fountain made of ivory closer and closer to the screams of agony. He prayed to jesucristo that the man on the other end of the phone his sweaty little hands were clinging to would tell his master how faithfully he had looked for him. He didn't think his malnourished body could withstand two whippings in one day.

"Señor Espisito! News from Senora! Señor Domingo says she has made contact!" he shouted with excitement, rushing up the path with the phone stretched out in front of him.

Rahul's head shot up at the boy's exclamation, making him smile broadly as he shoved the last disappointing worker into the feline habitat. A heavily ringed hand patted the boy on his head as the master accepted the phone and stepped a few paces away so he could hear over the din of pain and roars. The boy's small brown eyes widened with horror as a slashing paw swept through the air and painted a nearby wall with splatters of red. He ran fearfully back down the path with his heart pounding in his ears. But not so loudly that as he ran past he couldn't hear his master's delight that the girl would be in his grasp within a week's time.

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**Great news for those of you who have asked about physical copies of Dangerous Recipe!**

_**The writers/copyright holders of Red Canyon have granted me copyright permission to pursue publication of Dangerous Recipe!**_  I had to sign a whole contract and everything. It's the real deal! :D One of them even read my work and critiqued it! You guys have no idea how nerve wracking that was to wait for feedback from THE CREATOR OF MAC.

Since some of my dear readers aren't on Tumblr (and I  _hate_  posting news alert or author's note disappointing empty chapters) I've created a Facebook page for the series. Search "The Dangerous Recipe Series" and like the page for easy news updates on Dangerous Recipe's publishing progress!


	23. Tweak, yer it

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**_Author's note:_ ** _Happy Reedus day! To celebrate Norman's birthday, have some pointless filler-smut. (I wasn't going to post this until later but it's 4am and I can't sleep thanks to a back injury. You readers in other time zones lucked out on a fresh chapter.)_

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It felt so good to give in. Letting go of morals and rational reasons to abstain felt like breathing fresh air for the first time after being locked in a stuffy room for months. Once the guilt was ignored a giddy rush of excited anticipation swept through Mac. He went slow. Taking his time to rub his fingers along the jagged crystals that hadn't been broken down yet. Caressing them with more care than he'd shown any woman, aside from on maybe one drugged occasion. He was too busy running his fingers through a pile of soft refined powder to notice Kristal had stopped working to watch him. The rustling of her hazmat suit being taken off didn't register in his mind either while he courted the substance on his fingertips.

Krystal kneeled down to drag a musty old box from beneath her makeshift worktable where dangerously harmonious elements were fusing up above. She dug past spare rubber tubing and an old beer can she couldn't understand why they'd saved until she found what she needed. The feel of it in her hand sent a slight adrenaline rush through her similar to the one Mac was feeling as he started raising his hand to his mouth.

"Mac."

"Mac!" she barked a second time, managing to get his feinding eyes to leave the pink crank heaven in front of him and move to her. "I want to play a game."

He glanced up and did a double take when he realized what she was holding up and all the devious implications her sultry tone held. The gas mask she threw his way, which he abandoned his vice to catch, was like an old friend. One he'd thought he'd never see again.

"I packed it up when we had to wipe the cave." she explained when he looked down at the rubber in his hands with slight confusion. "Couldn't get rid of it."

"Wut game ya wanna play?" he inquired as he turned the mask this way and that to inspect.

Mac raised his head to find her piling her hair into a high ponytail before bending down to tighten the laces on her shoes. The way she looked up at him with her slow signature scarred smirk made a rush of excited pleasure run south through his body.

"Psycho murdering gas mask rapist." she suggested while moving one of her legs into a stretching pose and elaborating with humor. "Pretty much our fucked up version of tag or hide and go seek."

When she got no reply she abandoned her warm-up routine to try soothing over the odd down-turned scowling expression on his face. Usually Mac was all for any kind of activity that involved blood and sex. But as he turned away from her his words from the evening of his birthday came to her, making her assume she understood his issue.

Krystal approached him from behind. Once she was pressed against his backside she tilted her head up to reach his ear and breathe into it lightly. "I want you to chase me, catch me, hurt me, and fuck me."

The way he leaned back against her with a little shiver told her she was on the right path to making him forget his sexual insecurities. Two hands snaking around his waist to the bottom of his overall's zipper track made him grunt but not completely give in as they started to massage his uncharacteristically soft member through the fabric.

"It's been so long since we've fucked.." she almost whined, keeping her voice light while one of her hands moved from his progressively hardening meat to the collar of his suit.

She pulled it back to rake her teeth along the backside of his dirty neck down to where it met his shoulder with a whispered begging "Please" that she'd never admit to publicly. Her free hand crept to the front of his throat, up to his scruffy chin where she forced his head to tip back so she could nibble at the vein in the side of his neck. Mac let out a light groan as he realized it was indeed the longest they'd gone without sex aside from the week she'd escaped him in the caves. And as she continued trying to seduce him he realized the brain in his pants didn't give a shit if the one in his head was uncomfortable with that she knew about him.

A throaty chuckle sounded from her when he finally mumbled out something along the lines of "Rubbin' up on me like goddamn a cat in heat." and his hips bucked outward against her hand, hungry for rougher friction. With a hum of agreement and one more teasing squeeze to his now raging hardon she moved to unsheathe his second favorite weapon.

Sauntering around to face him head on she drug her tongue along the blade in what was supposed to be an enticing action while she tried to not think about the last time he'd cleaned it, if ever. He took the handle in his free hand when she offered it with the blade between her fingers, cocking a brow at her when she started unbuttoning her jeans.

"These are my favorite pair, I don't want them slashed to ribbons _if_ you catch me." she explained when his questioning expression came into view and she was left standing in her panties.

She looked him over with the mask dangling in one of his hands, a knife in the other, a tent in his coveralls, and meth the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. A small smile appeared at her manipulative accomplishment before she got to stating the rules of the game.

"No vital organs. Not the face if you can help it, I need to look as normal as possible for boarder patrol. And you have to really come at me. I'm going to fight back and hurt you. Just pretend I'm an unfortunate hiker who went exploring the wrong cave."

"Ya aint gonna pull none a that Bruce Lee shit are ya?" he grumbled, looking down at her tennis-shoed feet as the night of his grad ceremony came to mind.

"I won't fight back that much." she huffed. "Just enough to make you work for it."

Krystal jumped up and down a couple times to fight off the cave's chill on her naked legs and get herself psyched up. She cracked each side of her neck before a devilish grin was shared with Mac and he pulled the mask onto his head.

"When I come down the tunnel" she began, pointing towards the wall where the cook cave's enclave began. "it's on."

After his nod of understanding he watched her lace covered behind disappear around the corner. His erratic aroused breathing mellowed and evened out into long pulls that exited the mask's ventilation and quietly reverberated off the cave's rocky walls. It'd been so long since he'd peered through the mask's circular lenses he'd almost forgotten how good it felt to don his horrific equivalent to Jason's hockey mask. The way the rubber sat on his face and caressed his skin make his fist instinctively tighten around the knife's handle.

Kristy made her usually silent footsteps prominent with a few purposely kicked rocks here and there that made Mac appreciate the amount of realistic detail she was trying to put into their game. A high pitched extra girly "Ouch, my ankle." made him tense and ready to chase. She came into view with her ponytail swinging out back and fourth behind her thanks to the way she'd tailored her stride. It was almost convincing until she spotted him and stopped. Raising the back of her wrist to her forehead in an overly dramatic damsel in distress pose she even popped one of her feet up, the heel of her shoe almost meeting her butt.

"Like, oh no, a masked murderer!" she squealed in the worst impression of fright Mac had seen to date.

It was so horrible he mentally noted losing half his erection while he fought the urge to howl with laughter. As he started forward she dropped the pose and her entire valley girl demeanor.

"Stop, wait. That was so bad. Let me do it again." she called out to him, making him raise his arms up in frustration and a muffled growl of "Come on!" answered her.

This time while he waited for her to emerge he decided if she screwed up her victim's entrance again he was just going to charge. If she didn't run that was too damn bad, she'd get tackled into the wall and he wouldn't have to wait as long to sink his frustrated cock into her.

This time her walk wasn't as quick and perky. She was looking down at her feet, adding in a mildly believable stumble when her shoe hit a rock. She didn't look over at him until she was almost past the enclave, her eyes bulging and her mouth dropping in shock when she did. The bloodcurdling shriek she let out made his southern parts rise again, and him realize how hard it was to run with an erection as he went after her.

The way her butt jiggled with every bounding step she took didn't help either and he soon found himself falling behind in the dim caverns. He lost a couple seconds distance bending over to grab a sizable rock. But they were soon made up as he hurled the little red bolder between her calves just right, tripping her up and sending her tumbling face forward toward the ground with a surprised screech.

"Such a fucking poor sport." Krystal quietly grumbled under her breath before she continued fulfilling her obligation as Mac's victim.

It got a little easier to fake her fear when she looked over her shoulder and let out a pristine scream that sent debauched chills down his spine. He was stalking after her slowly while she tried to crawl away on her hands and knees, building the suspense as he twirled the knife in his hand. The steady almost mechanical breathing that filled the air when her screams didn't were the most unsettling part of his murderous persona for her. She appreciated the aesthetic layer it brought to his act and how much easier it made it for her to slip into the role so many deceased women had unwillingly played before her.

"Oh god, please don't hurt me! My leg is broken, I can't- Please somebody help meee!" she sobbed, her pitch becoming shrill and desperate at the end.

Mac waved the blade of his knife back and fourth at her in harmony with his masked head, mocking his prey's pitiful and useless cries for help. He'd never seen her truly terrified to know what it looked like on her face. But he supposed she was doing a good enough job mimicking it every time she looked over her shoulder at him because it had him ready to sink more than one type of phallic object into her flesh.

Her heart actually skipped a beat when she felt his hand clamp onto her leg. The blood brought on by a generous gash from the rock made his grip slip a little when he tried to turn her over, increasing his grasp to get a better hold and leave an encircling bruise. She feebly tried to kick free, wiggling the captured limb around while she fought to stay on her stomach. It was odd he kept trying to turn her over and she did everything she could to stay clawing belly-down at the dirt while she was drug into a brighter chamber. She preferred not to face him so she could better imagine it was a real attacker and her performance could seem more genuine for him. But Mac put a stop to it with his dirty thumb nail as he sunk it into her open wound.

The squawk she let out in retaliation was real as well as the double footed donkey-kick to his midsection she gave him. She was worrying about the nasty puss infused infection she'd probably contract when he started getting to his feet and she finally rolled over onto her back the way he obviously wanted. Her glare had to quickly be rearranged into a frightened mask as his came into view. She tried to scoot away with every step he took, pushing herself backwards in an awkward crab-walk shuffle while cowering up at him and pleading for her life.

He enjoyed dragging her by the ankle back to where he'd originally placed her. It was something about watching her hair fan out and drag behind her like long inky tentacles, becoming coated in dark red dust just like the rest of her. He decided her panties would be the first thing to go, he knew just how he wanted to get rid of them.

The knife traced along the spot where her hip bone used to almost be visible. Swirling out arachnid patterns on her skin in careful strokes that left behind red lines without breaking the skin. She was briefly disappointed until the metal slipped underneath the delicate material and slit both skin and lace. She sucked in a delighted breath and hid her masochism behind another keening wail for help. The other side was given a matching slash before the material was forcefully yanked from underneath her and stuffed into his pocket.

"No! Oh god, no. Please don't do this!" she choked out, proud she was still able to call fake tears fourth to do her bidding when she needed them.

He crawled up her body, looming over her with arms and legs trapping her on each side. The closed metal zipper teeth of his suit bit at her skin as he lowered his hips and ground his hardness into her. Another ear piercing scream ripped through the air while his zipper lowered and he did that thing with his shoulders that drove her crazy. An aroused smile had to shift into a grimace and she was finding it harder to keep up the act the more he turned her on.

She started struggling again, careful to only knee at the sides of his thighs and not the precious bits dangling in between. The way her hands semi-weakly slapped at his chest and shoulders made him suppress a chuckle. Mac brought the sharp edge up to her throat, leaning forward so their chests were touching and his mask was inches from her face.

"Quit movin', else 'm gonna slit yer throat." he growled through the rubber, watching as her reflection nodded back at her in the eyepiece's reflective glass.

Her eyes were so large and innocent, like she was able to make them when she was looking up at him with his meat in her mouth. He mentally swore she probably did it on purpose, just to make him nuts. A forearm replaced the knife, supporting his weight on her throat while his other hand moved to push aside the flannel material that covered the skin above her heart. A patch just above her breast that was already scarred by something he couldn't remember at the moment. More force was used while she gasped for air and the tougher skin resisted splitting open. He kept pushing until he felt the barrier give way and the satisfying sensation of the blade's edge sinking in. Red liquid seeped out around the edges while he drug it down toward her breast, rolling down to pool in the cupping space of her chest. He carved the rest of the lines quickly and sat up, releasing her airway and the pressure on it before he did serious damage to her larynx.

Krystal didn't bother raising her head to look at what he'd carved as she wheezed and coughed. He'd sliced that letter into her skin enough times for her to know what it felt like by memory. An act that told her the part to play was no longer that of a faceless victim. He'd never mark one of them that way.

Mac moved the mask up onto his head and leaned forward to rip the flannel apart. The buttons that flew in different directions made her give him a flat un-amused look. Mainly because she knew she'd have to be the one to collect them later and sew them back on one of his favorite shirts. She kept her complaint quiet while his index finger moved to the small blood pool he'd created between her breasts. His other hand dropped the knife and scratched the floor for dirt, coming back with some pinched between his fingers. His eyes were wild the way they got when he was in the middle of a sketch, darting from the dark red mud blood mess he was mixing, down to her supple stomach.

She began feeling weirded out when he started finger painting around her belly button, scrunching up her face in dislike while he smeared his desired design on the part of her body she liked him touching least. Just as she started lifting herself up onto her elbows and caught sight of a dirty little tweak spider on her skin, his hands were slamming her shoulders back to the ground. The mask was back and Mac was ready to attack.

Though a little confused at the break in their game, she let out a shriek as his filthy fingers pushed inside her.

"No screamin'." he ordered in a rumbling growl, grabbing the knife to stab her bicep when she didn't listen right away.

He nudged the mask up again to suck his fingers clean, blood, dirt, pussy juice and all. His head nodded in approval and a hum sounded in his throat. Krystal's look of disgust was genuine when he moved up to smash his mouth against hers. It felt so good to be kissing him again but the gritty texture he forced into her mouth didn't. Even though she'd missed the pungent sour taste of his saliva she turned her head and spat what she could when he let her lips free.

Mac slapped her face to the other side, bring a sting that spanned cheek to jawbone. "Yew take wut I give ya, bitch."

She was more than willing to take what he was pulling out of his coveralls. So much so that she didn't pay any mind to the switchblade sticking out of her shoulder as he sank something else into her. He stared into her fluttering eyes and forgave the blissful out of character grin that came to her face while he kept pushing in.

"Love ma dick so much ya can't pretend not ta like it, huh lil sister?" he taunted in a lighter yet raspy tone, his own eyes rolling back a bit as he hit the end of the road.

Her eyes widened at the forbidden title he used, one he saved for when he really wanted to get her going. He knew how much it disgusted her when he brought their possible relation into play, and how much it made her insides squirm in a different way. He smirked down at her while he pulled out and audible gushing wetness that hadn't been there seconds before was heard. Her lip curled at him while he kept retracting and she reached up to pull the gas mask down over his smug face.

"Keep it on." she growled at him, gasping a second later when he pulled the knife from her raised arm and slammed his cock back inside her.

The blood coated blade snuggled up to her throat and threatened to dig in every time he jarred her body with another violent thrust. She tried to look like she was in agonizing pain and kick the heels of her shoes against the back of his thighs. But that wasn't much help with the way his hips had her spread out.

"Stop, it hurts, it's too big! Please stop!" she cried out, trying to keep her voice high pitched and distressed instead of the deep throaty tone it wanted to take.

She knew he would like that line and it proved to make him more violent in his movements, coaxing a deep rumble from within the mask. They were slowly sliding down the tunnel toward the cook room he was fucking her so hard. She hoped the look on her face was one of pure horror instead of the happiness she felt while she gazed up at him. Instead of thinking about how good he felt she tried to think about all the women who'd stared into those blank shining circles until their eyes had never closed again. How the rubber had felt beneath their fingers when they tried to fight him off, how the smell of his body odor made them gag. She tried her best to imitate that, letting out a horrible retching sound that made him laugh.

The mocking sound made her itch to stab him, preferably with the heavy ring protruding from her finger. Instead she used her irritation to fuel her whimpers and whines as his hips gained that telltale quick as a whip speed.

"Pleeease," she cried, "don't come inside me. I don't want to have your fucked up baby. Pl-"

The gas mask snapped down in her direction at her staged plea and his hand shot forward to replace the knife just as fast. His thumb and fingers squeezed on either side, intensifying the sound of her struggling rasps for breath and cutting off her voice along with the blood flow to her brain. Her insides twitched all around him in their own mocking way. Mac stopped thrusting long enough to push the mask up once more and watch her eyes start to cross.

"Tell me ya love yer big brother's cock an I'll let ya cum." he demanded, lightening his grip just enough for one gasp of air to be let in.

Her eyes rolled up at him while he began pushing inside her again, but she gave him what he wanted like she always did, no matter how nasty.

"I love you-.." Krystal took the opportunity to struggle for more air at the right second. "..-r huge cock…big brother."

The way she whispered the last two words like the dirty secret it may have been sent him cursing and doubling over. The mask fell off his head and hit her in the face before flopping to the side. His forehead rested on her chest while the rest of his body trembled in a rigid pose. In her peripheral vision she could see his arms shaking as they held everything but his hips above her body while he came. It was a relief to be that close to him again. Even if her butt crack was filled with red dirt.

When he lifted his head she let out a snort that made him wrinkle his forehead at her. She reacted up with the arm that was still bleeding and wiped her palm across his brow, turning her hand to show him the blood and dirt that'd transferred from her chest to his sweaty face. Kristy found herself a bit disappointed when he pulled his wilting member from her body and moved to rest beside her with the mask pillowing his head.

"Good job keeping up your end, dick." she grumbled, moving to prop herself up on an elbow and look at him.

Mac let out a guilty laugh and slung his arm over his eyes, his grim teeth shining back at her as he continued to quietly chuckle and smile. He listened to her irritated sigh and her struggles to get cave-dirt out of unsavory places while he rested. She went as far as tucking his penis back inside his suit and zipping it as far up as his lazy uncooperative body would allow before grabbing a hold of his hands to haul him to his unwilling feet.

"I've been thinking.." she began when they were half way through their cigarette break in the warm truck.

"Aw shit, that aint usually a good sign." he snickered, throwing her an unapologetic grin.

A flat look was thrown his way before she continued.

"The shipment's done early and all that's left to do is package. So since I'm being forced into all this…" she paused and let out a heavy sigh in relation to his demands. "Why not do everything completely ass backwards and have the honeymoon before the wedding? We could leave for Mexico early and spend a few days down there consummating our unholy union before the deal."

He nodded in approval and flicked his ash into his door's tray.

"S' a good idea. Things'r cheaper down there. We could pawn tha resta tha jewelry I got in that can and have us a reeaal nice time." he suggested with an exaggerated leer over at her.

An honest to god giggle came out of her and she tried to look bashful. Her charade ended with him trying to grab for her and her escaping back into the cave to finish their work for the evening.

During their ride home Mac heard a sniffling sound to his right and re-positioned his hand on the steering wheel uncomfortably when he saw unexpected water trails flowing down the uneven path of her face.

"Fucks s'matter with ya?" he finally asked when his throat clearing and awkward glances at her didn't make her stop.

Krystal's eyes swept over the rocky snow dusted landscape again while she shrugged. "I don't know."

"These them happy tears ya told me bout tha other night when ya sprung a leak over a ring?" he jokingly inquired, trying to cease the waterworks with sarcastic humor.

"Kinda I guess." she mumbled with a slight chuckle and another shrug. "I hated Cainville when I first came here and now…I'm going to miss it when we leave. This was the first place where I was really…alive."

More sniffles filled the cab of the truck while she tried to get herself to stop.

"I'm just being ridiculous. We both know it wasn't a red canyon that made me switch from cyborg to cynical housewife." she rambled with a nutty unhinged laugh. "It was a prick in a red pickup truck."

* * *

_**Author's disclaimer:** I do not endorse the violent act of rape or non-consensual sex in real life in any shape or form. If you are feeling the urge to force yourself on someone, seek professional help immediately. Or find a WILLING partner to engage in consensual rape role-play with, with pre-established limits and a safe word that you will both respect and honor. Just because I enjoy the **mental** fantasy of rape does not mean other woman or men do. Do not assume that of anyone. Just because I enjoy this act in a mental aspect does not mean I would enjoy it physically in real life. Do not assume that of anyone. Lastly and most importantly, teach your sons and daughters not to rape. Nobody deserves to go through that traumatic experience._


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